Rule #425: Believe in Marriage
Marriage is a leap of faith. It is the belief that another person can be trusted completely with your hopes, dreams, and welfare—to protect, nurture, and build a life together.
Unfortunately, our world has become more cynical, and that faith has eroded.
In 1970, 71% of U.S. households were married couples. By 2022, that number had dropped to 47%. In 1962, 90% of 30-year-olds were married. By 2019, it had fallen to 51%. Today, one in four 40-year-olds has never been married. According to Pew Research, 40% of unmarried adults think marriage is obsolete.
And yet, I’m happy to report that despite life’s ups and downs, faith in marriage is alive and well in the Hill clan. My six kids may be single at the moment, but promises and commitments are forming that will change that soon enough. What amazes me most is that, even though all of them lived through divorce—and the pain that the “D-word” carries—they still believe in marriage. Their foundations could have been shaken permanently, but they still see hope.
When I was a kid, “divorce” was whispered, never spoken outright. As in, “Have you heard the Joneses are getting a divorce? So sad.” In the 60s and 70s, marriage was expected—it was simply the norm.
Faith and marriage are intertwined in every wedding. A wedding is more than a party; it’s an act of faith. It’s the belief that tomorrow can be better than yesterday, and that two people are stronger together than apart.
Some argue you don’t need a piece of paper or a ceremony to prove your love. They couldn’t be more wrong. Love doesn’t need a wedding, but commitment does. Real commitments are made publicly, with consequences if they’re broken. Private promises are too easy to drift from. That’s why the moment matters—the standing before each other, whether in front of three people or 300—and saying, “This is forever.”
Weddings don’t need to be Martha Stewart affairs. They don’t have to be traditional. The bride doesn’t need to wear white. What matters is that the promises are made, and that they are witnessed.
I admit I’m a sucker for tradition. I like when faith and God are present, when the promises are made not just to each other, but to a higher power. And yes, I cry at weddings—at the flower girls (even if they’re puppies), at the walk down the aisle, at the first kiss. I cry because weddings remind us of what is best in people, best in the world, and best in what’s to come.
And a warning to all future Hill family weddings: I plan to dance. If you’re the bride, I’ll dance with you. If you’re the groom, I’ll dance with your bride. And I promise, I am terrible. I have the classic old white man dance moves, and I will absolutely embarrass you and the entire family. But through my off-beat, awkward steps, I hope you’ll see the joy in my heart—that you, too, believe in marriage, and that you will carry this faith forward into building your family.
Love, Dad