We laid close last night, skin on skin, bodies still but mind wandering.
When I woke this day one year younger, I couldn’t know that by sunset I’d have said yes, pledged my life to you, agreed to take your name. I knew I’d say yes. From day one, I knew I’d say yes. I just didn’t know when the question would come.
It came with the evening wind, dancing in my hair. It came with the setting sun, warming my face, breathing life and joy. You caught me by surprise and I said yes, we said “I do,” and here we are today.
I woke this morning with fresh mercies on my mind, mercies poured out to be poured out. That’s the joy and responsibility of our covenant, that I get to wake up and try again. When my yesterday’s words were sharp or wrong or misunderstood, when attitudes are sour and milk is spilled or dinner burned and tears fall, there’s new mercy for today. We’re given grace for the trying again.
The days and months pass and life and God teach me what it means to be wife, to be woman, friend, daughter, child. To be one of grace.
I took your name but I am still me and you are you. The problems in our marriage are the problems in our hearts and I learn with pain and stubbornness and humility and patient husband what it means to be loved. To accept love not earn it. To be slower to speak, quicker to listen. To hear affirmation and believe it. To listen to the right voices, the true voices. And your arms hold me as I cry and we heal together from our brokenness, our dirt, our sin, and we’re stronger together than alone.
Our young marriage is grace and laughter and truth-telling and life and chaos and silly and never ending laundry and love. So much love.
I’m so glad you asked.
With all my heart,