I Did.

It was the first weekend in February, and I was moving out of my one-bedroom apartment and into a new one with a friend. I woke up late, had on a snowboarding t-shirt, pigtails with a do-rag, and no make up.

When he showed up to help me move, I wasn't packed. Yes, that's right. I had planned a moving day, a few people came to help, and I wasn't packed yet. It was just a tiny apartment, after all, so how much could there be? I'd pack as we went, was my theory.

I noticed his eyes first. They were a beautiful, rich blue, and full of joy, really. I sort of got distracted by his eyes. Then I noticed how darn funny he was. I was pleasantly surprised all day at how much I laughed.

He was cute, had beautiful eyes and made me laugh. But I was determined not to notice anything else. After all, I had wasted countless hours having a crush on someone from the singles group at church, and was fed up with my motivation being wrapped up in a boy. I wasn't going to let it happen again.

So I skipped church the following day on purpose. But I thought about him. The next time I saw him was at a mid-week service, and I just couldn't help noticing other things. His smile, his joy, his worship. After the service a group of us went out to eat, and I don't know what everyone else talked about…it was as if he and I were the only ones in the room. The attraction was palpable.

And I was very, very angry about it.

I had been in such a beautiful relationship with the Lord…He and I had come through some rough (very rough) places and I was enjoying being alone with Him. I drove home from the restaurant crying hot, angry tears and yelling out loud to God:

"I don't want this! I don't want to like anyone! I don't want my motivations to be centered around a guy! I'm not ready for this! I haven't PAID MY PENANCE for my recent pit, so why is he here right now????"

And I spent the next few days being angry and praying.

And then God spoke to my heart:

"He's a gift to you. You don't have to accept it. But you're the only one beating up yourself for the past. I've forgiven you. I've extended grace to you. I can choose to bless you how and WHEN I want to. What you do with it is up to you."

So I relented and accepted.

The following Sunday, he came up to me after service and asked if I "you know…wanted to…you know…hang out sometime. Nothing crazy…maybe coffee or something…just…you know…hang out."

I nodded and eloquently mumbled, "uh huh."

He called me that afternoon and we had dinner that night. At dinner he told me he had sort of been stalking me at church well before he showed up to help me move. Had been praying about me specifically. He was surprised when I answered the door that moving day, because he didn't know who he was showing up to help that moving day.

And I didn't think that was creepy.

So we became a couple.

Just 12 months later, on this very day nine years ago, we vowed to stick together through it all, to endure and love and cherish each other regardless. We vowed that come what may, we'd love each other until our dying day. (Yep…the duet from "Moulin Rouge" was one of the songs at the wedding.)

These nine years have gone by in a flash, yet it feels like we've been together forever. Not in a bad way, but in a I-can't-remember-what-life-was-like-before-you way. Like we've just always been. We've been through sun and rain and even a tornado or two…but we've been through it together, side-by-side.

I'll never be fully convinced God didn't make a mistake, forgetting I really don't deserve what He's given me. But I'm not foolish enough to give him back.

He's mine now.

Forever and always, amen.

Mush Alert (I've Got a Good, Good Man)

p.s. He’s so going to kill me for this.

When Greg told me he decided to do The Love Dare as a focus for us this year, I was surprised. I think we have a great marriage...there haven’t been any recent valleys or bad times (that I was aware of, at least). But he decided he wanted to do it to fireproof our marriage (pun intended). To take it to the mountaintop. You want to focus on us? You got it, babe. 

He came up to me the other morning with his book and said, “This is going to make you uncomfortable. Are you ready?” 

“I don’t know. What is it?”

“You have to tell me three things that irritate you about me, that get on your nerves.” He opens his book and is poised with his pen, waiting.

“Really, three things?”

“Yes.”

I push away the computer and sit there feeling an intense amount of pressure.

“Okay. Sometimes...and I know you don’t mean anything by it...I know it’s not directed at me...” And I tell him the first thing.

He writes it down without comment. “What else?”

“I don’t know. Can I think about it and get back to you?”

This is the point in the story, when relayed to a dear friend, she said, “Really? You couldn’t just come up with three? I could come up with three and he’s not even my husband!” (All in good fun, of course.)

A full 24 hours later, I tell him the other two things. “Okay. Sometimes...and I know you don’t mean anything by it...and I know I do it too...but it’s just that...” And I tell him the other two things that I had to work really hard at thinking about.

Yes, this was an extremely uncomfortable exercise for me. 

I absolutely loathe confrontation. I hate bringing up things that bother me. I know it’s unhealthy, I. KNOW. But I hate it. I hate the uncomfortable feeling it gives me. I think a lot of it stems from being raised in a home where my mom was a really dominant personality...and according to her she was the one who was right all the time and if I disagreed I had an “attitude problem.” (This is nothing I haven’t told her, and she is a completely different person today.) Being the firstborn, I decided it was easier to adopt a peacemaker mentality and just stuffed it all in order to maintain the peace. So expressing things that bother me is just plain hard because I was never encouraged to before. Never invited to before.

I’ve been given the greatest husband in the world. He is not perfect, but he’s absolutely the most perfect fit for me. When I was single I wrote out my list of things I wanted in a husband (yes, I really did this), and Greg is not only everything I wanted, but he’s all the things I didn’t know I needed. But God did. 

So yes, his strengths so far outweigh any weaknesses or imperfections, that it really was hard to think of three things that irritate me. When you’re sitting on the beach watching the sunset, do you instantly think about how uncomfortable the sand in your shorts is? When going for a hike in the mountains do you miss the beauty of your surroundings because of the wild weeds? Every rose has its thorn. Cliche but true. But you don’t look at the rose and immediately focus on the thorns, do you?

There’s so much that’s amazing about Greg that having football on the TV all the time truly isn’t irritating. Just like with my friends. I don’t focus on Friend #1’s perpetual Pig Pen-like cloud of negativity. I don’t zero in on Friend #2’s inability to ask me how I am until after 30 minutes of drama updates. I tend to forget how Friend #3 is constantly late and will probably even be late meeting Jesus at the pearly gates. Everyone has their flaws. But when you love someone, the flaws sort of fall by the wayside and you don’t see the irritants first when you look at them. You see their heart. 

The exercise was great because it reinforced to me that I have permission at any given time to voice a frustration with Greg. I’ve always known it, but it’s nice have an invitation from someone who wants to not just know, but to make it better. 

It was also a good exercise because it made me all the more grateful for the man I have. He is a completely hands-on, phenomenal father. He always puts me first, not just in word but in deed. He would do absolutely anything for me. He’s told me before all I have to do is say the word and he walks away from ministry in a heartbeat. I would never in a million years ask him to, but know beyond a shadow of a doubt he’d do it without so much as a question or look back. He supports anything I want to do, and will be as flexible as possible to help in any way. If I decided tomorrow I wanted to run for Governor of North Dakota, he’d quit his job and we’d move within the month. No question.

I am incredibly blessed. So much so that I tend to overlook baseball hats thrown at the TV in disgust over a bad play in a Georgia game. Or the late hours playing Wii. Or the dirty dishes left in the sink without being rinsed off. 

Those things are just thorns. And the thorns won’t prick you if you know how to hold the rose.