25 Years

Yesterday, my husband and I celebrated our 25th anniversary. So naturally, for this week’s post, you get mushy-gushy musings. 😉

We got married young–we were both 18. There were plenty of people who told us we were making a mistake, that we were too young to know what we wanted, and why didn’t we just live together first to make sure we were compatible? Um, no. 

Were we young? Absolutely. Too young? Absolutely not. Because we both went into this marriage with an understanding of what marriage is supposed to be, fully dedicated, and also fully aware that it wasn’t about me but about each other, about us, and about being made one by the One who made us.

We were young…so we finished growing up together. We wove our dreams together. We did every stage of life together. We moved, we had two precious children who are both adults now, we fought for those dreams together. We weathered the storms together.

And now, twenty-five years after we said, “I do,” we look back and marvel at how deep the love has grown. Especially in these last two years as we’ve had the cancer battle.

David has always loved me in a way that boggles my mind. I’ve always known that he would do absolutely anything for me, that I and the kids come first (of things on earth–let’s not try to compete with God, LOL). He has told me every day of our life together that I’m beautiful, and I couldn’t begin to count the times in the day that he says he loves me. I know that all I have to do is draw near to him, and his arms will come around me.

But since my diagnosis, that’s deepened still more. And he has marveled so many times over these last two years at how this disease we obviously never wanted taught us both new things about love. “How is it possible,” he has wondered so many times, “that this has made me love you more?” We obviously don’t like cancer–but these new depths of love are something we’re both grateful for and amazed at. And I am so, so blessed.

As a romance writer, I’ve written many a hero. On the surface, they’re not usually like David. But their hearts, the way they love…they’re all David, at least in bits and pieces. He reads all my books for me, which I absolutely love. Not just because then the characters become part of our family, people we talk about in everyday life, but because as he’s reading them, he always says the most amazing things, about my writing and about how he sees me in them. I know not every writer has that support, and it means the world to me that I do.

For our 25th, we were planning a big trip. Probably the Azores in Portugal. We wanted a European adventure. But with my chemo infusions, my oncologist advised “no flight longer than 3 hours,” which eliminated any European destinations. And so, we looked up where on our continent we could find the most European feel, and we decided to go to Quebec City. That’s where we are today–I scheduled this post several weeks ago. Hopefully, we’re having a wonderful time sipping coffee from cafes, strolling the historic district, and just being together.

And praising God for 25 years. Praying for 25 more, and then more beyond that. Looking back over our quarter-of-a-century together with amazement, and looking ahead with anticipatory joy for whatever the Lord has in store for us next.

I’ve written a lot of love stories. And the inspiration for them just keeps on coming. Because I’m living my favorite one.