Tomorrow will be fourteen years since I married the best man in the world for me. I really see God's hand in our relationship from the beginning until this very moment.
There I was, with a pulverized heart and chicken pox scabs all over my face and body...and in the very first conversation, washing dirty dishes in a college cafeteria where he knew everyone and I was the strange out-of-towner in just for the summer, I KNEW he was "THE ONE".
Of course it felt weird, knowing. But I knew. He says he liked me and was interested, but it wasn't anything earthshattering or ear splitting or anything like that.
It took two years for our relationship to progress from that first conversation to actually being married, and I'm still a little bit mad at him for not taking me to the Junior/Senior formal his last year of college (he says he would have dated me if his semester hadn't been so busy, and he felt like he needed to take a fellow Asburian to the formal, and since I wasn't he didn't ask me). Oh well, I'm sure he can still be mad at me a little bit for going out with...no, let's not go there....suffice it to say, God is extremely good, and in each other we have each of us met our match.
And marriage is hard work. Having kids is hard work. I never would have dreamed we'd go through all we have gone through in our fourteen years: The deaths of his parents and sister, working all day and going to school all night to get a degree, massive back pain from a car wrech, four babies, one failed adoption, major earth-shifting religious changes, fibromyalgia, working like a dog to get out of debt, untold car repair bills and home repair bills, grief, joy, pain, and more pain, fun camping trips, finding a church home, developing skills, balancing each other out...plumbing the depths of who we are as persons and coming up best of friends, sharing a soul, almost, and laughing at the same stuff, fininshing each others sentences and having the same odd senses of humor. Tempting each other, supporting each other and goading each other into repentance.
It truly is a sacrament.
Happy Anniversary, Wes. I love you forever. You are a better person that I am, a better parent, steadier, kinder, more patient, and less selfish. I am honored and humbled to be your wife.