8 Years

8 years ago today, on a very cold, very beautiful Autumn day, I sat beside you on a green Gator tractor as we rode off into the sunset literally yelling, "What did we just do?!" We had promised our lives to one another. Felt like we were spinning wildly out of control, but in the most exciting and promising way. At that moment, the significance of that commitment was really only felt in the acknowledgement that we didn't really understand. It was a beautiful beginning to what would, and what continues to, follow.

Over the years we have learned through the unfolding of moments, and days, and months and seasons what it means to love one another no matter what. We have learned the process of living life as a united front. We have learned to work out the details of managing a home together. We have learned, and continue to learn, how to be parents to our three princesses. We have learned how to take all the good that makes you, you and me, me and create something new and better. We have learned that it is possible to fight without hurting one another. We have learned the depth of forgiveness and grace. We have learned that we won't just stay in love, but that like any commitment it takes work and practice. We have learned that sometimes we have to love one another through action, because it is right, not because we feel like it. We have learned that hardships surrendered to God will make us stronger. We have learned that whether it comes to experiencing joy or pain or anything in between, life is better together than alone.   

I look at you now and I don't see the same man that was in that tractor with me on that very cold, very beautiful Autumn day. I see someone much more mature. Much more seasoned. Someone who has held my hand through the losses and gains that life has brought us. I see the father of my babies, and the leader of our family. I see how God has worked in you, forming you into who He has created you to be. I am thankful for you. I am proud of you. I believe in you. I walk confidently beside you.

If I close my eyes I can still feel it. The cold wind. Newness. The excitement of spinning wildly out of control. I love you, Joshua. I would marry you all over again. Happy anniversary.