Marrying for love may be a bit risky, but it is so honest that

“Marrying for love may be a bit risky, but it is so honest that God can’t help but smile on it.” Thus spoke Josh Billings, the 19th-century American humorist whose homespun wit often cloaked profound truths about human nature. Beneath his plain language lies a wisdom both tender and eternal. In this single sentence, Billings captures the divine paradox of love—that though it is uncertain, fragile, and filled with peril, it remains the most honest act of faith two souls can undertake. To marry for love, he says, is to trust not in wealth, status, or arrangement, but in the unseen bond between two hearts—and in doing so, one calls forth the blessing of heaven itself.

To understand this quote, we must remember the time in which Josh Billings lived. In the 1800s, marriage was often a practical contract, a merging of families and fortunes rather than souls. Love, though desired, was a luxury—something hoped for but not always expected. Yet Billings, with his earthy wisdom, dared to suggest that love, though uncertain, is the truest foundation of all. To marry for anything less might seem safer, but it lacks the sacred honesty that comes when one gives their whole self without calculation. Love, in its sincerity, is the most godlike of human emotions—it mirrors the Creator’s own act of giving without demand.

“A bit risky,” he admits—and rightly so. For love has never promised safety. To marry for love is to step into the unknown, to bind your life to another’s destiny without any guarantee of outcome. Riches may fade, beauty may wither, tempers may clash, and fortune may fail—but love, if it is real, remains the only treasure that grows through loss. Billings acknowledges this truth with humor, yet beneath it lies reverence: that the risk of love is holy because it is chosen freely. Love that risks all is love that imitates the divine, for even God, in giving man free will, risked rejection for the sake of genuine devotion.

Consider the story of Abigail and John Adams, one of history’s most remarkable marriages. In an age when unions were arranged for convenience, theirs was born of affection and mutual respect. They endured years of separation while John served his fledgling nation abroad, their only connection the letters they exchanged—letters that spoke of duty, faith, and longing. Life offered them no certainty; war, sickness, and distance shadowed their days. Yet their marriage, grounded in love, became a partnership that strengthened them both and, in turn, helped shape a new nation. Their union was indeed risky, but its honesty shone through every trial—and one imagines, as Billings wrote, that God smiled upon it.

What makes this quote timeless is its celebration of honesty as the soul of love. Love born from convenience, manipulation, or fear may endure in form, but it lacks life. True love, by contrast, stands naked before heaven—without pretense, without agenda. It is pure in its surrender, humble in its desire to give. To marry for love is to say, “I choose you not for what you have, but for who you are.” Such love, though imperfect, reflects the divine truth that the greatest things in life cannot be bought, only given. In that honesty lies its sacredness—and the reason, as Billings says, that even God smiles upon it.

Yet Billings’ wisdom also cautions us not to romanticize love as effortless bliss. Love that endures must be tended, tested, and renewed through the hardships of time. It is not enough to marry for love; one must labor to grow in it, to forgive, to learn, to stand side by side when life’s storms arise. The honesty that delights heaven must be matched by patience, humility, and grace on earth. For love without endurance is a flame that flickers; love that endures through sacrifice becomes a light eternal.

So, my listener, take this saying to heart: to marry for love is indeed a risk, but it is the noblest one a human can take. It may lead through valleys of pain as well as peaks of joy, yet it keeps the soul true. Do not choose a partner out of fear, comfort, or calculation. Choose one whose heart mirrors your own honesty—whose presence brings peace, whose spirit kindles your courage. For the path of love may be uncertain, but it is the only path that leads the heart home.

And when you love, love with the sincerity that invites heaven’s smile. For in a world built on ambition and gain, there is nothing more divine, nor more revolutionary, than two people who stand before God and one another and say—not with pride, but with quiet faith—“I love, therefore I risk.” That is the love Josh Billings spoke of: the love that, though fragile, reflects the infinite; the love that, though uncertain, remains the truest thing we shall ever know.