Seven years ago today, I married the love of my life.
I cannot believe it has been seven years. And four kids. This morning, we were looking at our wedding pictures with the kids and telling them about the day we got married. They lost interest quickly, but it was fun to look through and remember.
I wore white and silver Adidas tennis shoes with blue laces. Marty looked dashing in his tux.
We planned an indoor wedding at the church I grew up in, and an outdoor reception in my parent's backyard. We set up the day before, the tables, chairs, dance floor and everything were in place. We were ready. And the morning dawned bright and... raining. I woke in the living room of my parents house, having had a sleepover the night before with my bridesmaids. One last slumber party with just the girls, then I was to be someone's wife.
I woke and looked out the bay windows into the side yard, and found rain dripping off the trees that bordered the property. I went to the front, and saw rain coning down in the front yard. I took a deep breath, and went to the back yard where we had spent hours the day before setting everything up.
The backyard was dry.
I remember going out there and realizing that it was raining everywhere except the backyard where the reception would be held. I stood there, in the dawn of my wedding day, amazed at the miracle that was taking place around me. I could see the rain in all directions except for that one rectangle that was my reception. God moved that morning, and I could feel it.
It was going to be a great day.
And a great day it was. I married my one true love, my first love. Although I thought I had loved before, nothing compared to the love that I had (and still have) for my groom.
I remember clearly the peace I felt that day. I had no cold feet, no second guessing. I knew without a doubt that this was the man that God had chosen for me, this was my "better half." Or I was his "better half," or something like that.
By the time the reception came, it was clear and sunny. We had a huge barbecue, and ate a ton.
Marty's birthday was last week, and I got a little flak about not doing a birthday post for him. But I did not want to do two sappy, lovey-dovey, ego-inflating posts in seven days, so here is my one big one.
Marty is a great Dad, he loves our kids so much. He gets down on the floor and plays, wrestles, and generally enjoys spending time with the kids often, and they absolutely adore him. He is loving and very loyal, he would rather spend time with us than anyone else. What wife does not love hearing, "Some of the guys were going out for drinks after work, but I'd rather come home to you guys." I mean seriously.
He makes me laugh like no one else can, and he gets me. And if you know me, you will understand how unique that is. We were friends first, and that friendship has served us well.
The last seven years have had many ups and downs, and the stresses of having four kids in four years have not always been easy. But we are still standing, Marty and I, ready to take on the next challenge in our lives. I read a quote recently that said, "Sometimes on the way to our dreams, we got lost and find another one." This is so true. If someone asked us on our wedding day, "Where will you be in seven years?" We would never have guessed we'd be where we are right now. But the image of what we wanted then compared to what we have now is no comparison. We love our family. We love our little tiny house. We love looking forward to the future, dreaming big about the adventures we will embrace together as our family grows. (And when I say our family grows, I mean, as the kids grow up, not gain in numbers!)
I love you, honey. I love you more that I did on our wedding day, and I look forward to spending our forever together. Seven down, sixty eight to go!