A little (3 days) over 5 years ago, I stood in front of a gathering of friends and family from across the country (and world) and said some promises to a beautiful young woman who stood, teary-eyed in front of me. We promised one another to stick with each other through good times and bad, laughter and tears, taking each other as we were, are, and will be. And, really, that’s kind of a big deal.
My wife and I have been through five years of ups, downs, joy, depression, sickness, health, rare moments of wealth, and mostly adequate funds. We’ve made silly jokes to one another, such as divorce never being on the table, but murder was an option. I mean, we did both say, “Til death do us part,” but we never said when and how that death might arrive.
Is my wife the same woman I married? No. For that matter, am I? Not really. Life changes people, and I’ve heard stories of people waking up one morning looking to their side and wondering what happened to the person they married. They changed just like everyone does who’s still alive.
Truthfully, and this will sound storybook, I still enjoy my wife’s company. I enjoy her thoughts, her interests, and her boundless enthusiasm. Her eyes are incredibly expressive, and never cease to catch my attention. Her style has changed over the years, and her confidence has grown tremendously and she seems more beautiful today than she was then. (And that’s saying something, brides seem to exude light and beauty all prepped for the wedding ceremony, especially mine.)
We have our disagreements and moments of frustration. But our prolonged, emotional spats can be counted on one hand… and they include things as trivial (to you) as towel folding, Star Wars, and a minor theological issue early on in dating. I know, it seems crazy, even to us as we laugh about them years later. Most of the spats (except for the towels) ended with us finally realizing we were saying the same thing, just using different words.
My favorite part of the whole marriage bit, though, is knowing that someone is always there. She’s a reminder of God’s love, a daily renewed thing that continually renews me. Even when she’s quiet, or in another room, I can sense a difference when she’s just in the house. And that shows me that even if I cannot hear God or see what’s going on, I can know that He is still present.
So may God bless us with many more years together. May He make us a blessing to others. May her Prussian blue eyes continue to shine love and may her enthusiasm never find an end. May we remain true, faithful, silly, and present for as long as we both shall live.