Today, on a humid July afternoon, I look at the calendar date and sit thinking of the man whose eyes hold me and smile undoes me. Today is our anniversary. Four years.
It’s only been four years, but the young girl he met and married is someone else now. He's made me a woman: forced me to grow, matured me, pruned me. I think of our vows; we've had many "worse,” yet have always made it "better".
I asked him one time if he would have stayed with me, had he known we thought so differently on things. It's a trick. He can't say yes. It would crush me. He can't say no. It wouldn't be the truth. He answers perfectly. "I didn't love you as much then as I do now." His answer gives me goose bumps and misty eyes. God knew what he was doing bringing us together.
He knew my thick and yet weak skin would need him. That he was the only man who could break me and love me doing so. Thank you Lord for this man.
Patrick has taught me that a marriage isn’t made up of love letters. The words that matter most are the ones that we live. Our marriage isn’t made up of love letters, but it is one.
I've never believed that you could marry the wrong one. God is too big. But I have learned that you grow into being the right one. I wasn't the proverbs 31 when he married me, but God can get me there.
I will sit and watch our wedding video today. It’s a tradition. One I look forward to every year. It makes me laugh and cry and think and thank God.
I pray our marriage will bring ever increasing spiritual significance and glory to our Heavenly Father.
Thank you for being a husband with honor and integrity. For loving me beyond reason. For always being my best friend. I love you.
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