Monthiversary #32

Thirty-two months ago, it was Sunday. It was warm and sunny, and Ryan and I had our own version of church in the sand before devouring breakfast sandwiches, courtesy of a kind vendor who heard about some couple getting married that day, and upon finding out it was us, offered us sustenance.

A talented stylist curled my hair and my entourage of two ironed my dress while I labored to repeat the makeup lesson I'd been taught. And at the appointed time, I gathered up my billowing skirt in my hands and sneaked into a gazebo to whisper Ryan's name before he turned around and saw me as if for the first time.

Yesterday was Sunday. It was warm and sunny, and Ryan and I went to church before devouring breakfast biscuits around the table with our Sunday School family. I sported curly hair, held crunchy from gel and hairspray, and our dryer spun most of the wrinkles out of my dress while I spent the last two minutes at home adding makeup to my eyes. I gathered up my Bible and journal and whispered to Ryan I was ready...and he still smiled as if for the first time.

This man:

I appreciate him so much. He works so hard so I can have the luxury of not having a full time job. He goes out of his way to thank me for the hard work I do at home and in writing and in serving, and I appreciate that he notices. He supports what I love and challenges me to try new things.

Last week, as I cleaned and purged in our house, I found a stack of prayer journals, where many, many lonely, tear-filled nights found their way into words, and I begged God for a husband. I questioned and doubted and got angry and asked for forgiveness and recorded what I learned and whispered secrets of the single...and this man is the long-awaited answer to those prayers.

We've poured a lot of life into the last 32 months. Sometimes we get tired looking back over the scrapbooks that document the moments - amazed that we've had enough energy to pour so much living into so little time.

And I'm grateful for every moment. Even the ones that were hard, frustrating, and even flat-out maddening. The moments when houses wouldn't sell and surgery dates were wrong and cars died on highways and tires went flat and dresses wouldn't zip and work depleted us. Even in those moments, I'm grateful for Ryan and how he can always make me laugh and how he always lets me cry. I'm grateful to be the one to make him laugh and make his bad days better.

It began almost three years ago - this adventure. And yesterday we celebrated thirty-two months of marriage. Thirty-two months of waking up to each other and reaffirming that we still do. We still choose each other.

That in this dance of life - we're partners.