My to-do lists as of late are intense.
They include wedding planning, job hunting, and representative calls, and they all take up big chunks of my day.
My weeks include calls to reception venues, my representative and senators, and at one point even the Department of Homeland Security.
I send messages to my parents, future-in-laws, maid of honor, and bridesmaids about dresses and decorations, and I share regular political happenings with my online community, encouraging them to stay up to date and accurate concerning their media intake and output.
I had no idea my life would turn out this way.
And here I am, writing, posting, calling, and planning, looking for reception venues, dresses, rings, petitions, and protests, living life in a way I never thought possible.
As I approached graduation, I expected to work with a church or faith community in a prominent role, maybe with youth or young adults, or even the whole congregation. I figured the political climate would stabilize within the year, and I wouldn’t be checking my news feed everyday to find some mind-numbingly awful sound clip from a politician. I knew Bryce and I would be getting engaged and planning a wedding, and I wanted work which would allow said planning to move forward.
So when I asked a professor for some help and advice in choosing a post-graduate career, and he asked if I had considered being an activist, I barely stifled a laugh (although I’m unsure as to whether I completely suppressed my look of fear). I thought to myself “Are you kidding? I’m too much of a nervous wreck as it is. I couldn’t be that involved without having several breakdowns.”
Less than a year later, 45 is in office, most of our representatives are throwing out everything instead of actually making anything new, and people (myself included) are taking to the streets and the phone lines to voice their discontent.
And in the midst of it all, I am planning a wedding.
I am planning for one golden day of love, hope, and peace in the midst of division, anger, and fear, a day for me, my husband-to-be, our families and friends to celebrate and remember.
This isn’t the climate in which I expected to plan such an event, but maybe it’s necessary. I hope it reminds me and those helping me that love, not frilly and sugar-sweet but tough and enduring, has the final say in who we are and what we will be.
I hope everyone has something, a wedding or otherwise, to remind them of this important lesson in these trying times.