Four years ago today we threw a wedding together with a tiny budget and the generous help of so many friends and family. We had a little church to use for free, my mother's dress, altered for free, flowers and decorations done beautifully by a friend, dinner and desserts by talented aunts, photos worth thousands more than we payed, and incredible music performed by musically-gifted friends. I prayed for snow... and we got the first blizzard of the year. There were surprise fireworks and surprise additions to the ceremony—one of the sweetest children I've ever worked with shouted "I do!" before Dave could say it, and it was a perfect interruption I still can't remember without laughing. Our ceremony made me cry tears of joy. When I threw my bouquet, my dear friend who caught it fulfilled the superstition and was the next in line to wed. Not long after that, the man who caught the garter would go on to marry one of my bridesmaids. You can't make this stuff up. Every detail of that day was better than I had dreamed; I had a Pinterest wedding to set the bar for Pinterest weddings. And it was a day of surreal passing of time. It was there and gone like a candle is lit and blown out on a birthday cake.
If you had a beautiful wedding or a private ceremony in a court room, big-budget ball or no-budget DIY event, they all pass so quickly and are just a memory of one day in the grander picture of a life together in the covenant of marriage. It's funny now to think back and try to remember my wedding. So much is a blur. But even thinking upon the four years of my marriage is sort of a blur. Time flies, as they say. The stunning fact is that I have entered a covenant that is intended to last my entire life. The meaning of the wedding day is important, but the form of that day doesn't have anything to do with the way I live out my covenant day after day. The wedding isn't all that significant to the ongoing state of my marriage.
So today as I think back to the hopes and anticipation I had on that first day of marital existence, I remember a mindset that couldn't see the hills and valleys ahead, but was certain only that my "I do" would guarantee I would be traveling over those landmarks together with my husband. Four years' perspective makes me think I will consider my present mindset naïve as well compared with the retrospect of decades of marriage. I'm always learning more about myself and about David and about God's purpose for marriage. As happy as I have been, as frustrated or content, as inspired or tired, my marriage has been a tool for God to shape me into a person who more desperately seeks Him to meet my heart's needs and more deeply thanks Him for the overwhelming depth of joy that has come to me.
What can I really say? The fact that marriage is never perfect isn't a novel idea. But as we celebrate the four short years we've shared, it's hard for me to simply write about how wonderful it has been, or how amazing my husband is (even though he is amazing and deserves to be so praised) because the reality is that marriage isn't always amazing. It's hard work. But it's the most worthwhile endeavor of my life and I want to pay it tribute rightly, without the facade of perfection or the surface-level appreciation for only the good. As incredible as the high points have been (motherhood is right up there) I have to also stop and acknowledge the work of God through all the trials (like motherhood!) We're not perfect, but how beautiful it is to give and receive grace in the midst of our imperfection. I am so thankful for the love and faithfulness of my husband, because he extends it whether I deserve it or not. I am thankful for the meals he's cooked and the dishes he's washed and the days he's put up with my selfishness or the conflicting expectations that go right along with being married to another human. I am thankful. And I am hopeful.
Thank you for marrying me, David. I respect you. I love you.
