(This is a picture of a nut Jillian found in our backyard. When we opened it up, we thought it was neat to see that both sides displayed a perfect shape of a heart.)
Today my love and I celebrate thirteen years of life together. Thirteen years. Where has the time gone? I think when we decided to enlarge our family, time somehow became irrelevant. Time slips by and we find ourselves another year older, and another year further away from where we started. And, in a lot of ways, that's a good thing.
When we were first dating, Hubs and I seemed to be so incredibly much alike. Our humor, our goals, even our thoughts. We would spend hours gazing into each other's eyes, content to be at each other's sides. Much time was spent simply talking. Discussing future goals, dreams and aspirations. Learning each other. I never had a physical checklist of what I was looking for in a spouse, but I think to some degree everyone has a mental one. And, without fully acknowledging it, he met most of my desires in a man. A man who loves God. Check. A man who is sensitive. Check. (He was, after all, raised with three older sisters...) A man who is not egotistical or prideful. Check. A man who is interested in having a family. Check. And was compliant if I wanted to stay home to raise children. Check. A man who is humorous, and can tolerate my odd sense of humor. Check. (He often shakes his head at me and laughs, though...I'm not sure if he's laughing in approval, disapproval or dismay...) A man who would love me despite my shortcomings and failings. Check. That last one was the hook, line and sinker for me. It was his forgiveness of my past wrongs, and enduring patience that had me sold. And it's what still keeps me pressing on today. As I think back through the years, I often am reminded that he has put up with a lot. I have evolved from the control freak, quick to anger, extremely stubborn person that I used to be. And I still continue to grow and change in those areas. And he still quietly waits in the shadows while God continues to mold. Never complaining, never reminding.
I remember our very first "disagreement" as a married couple. (Otherwise known as a good ol' fight.) I was in the kitchen, doing my wifely duty of preparing dinner. I don't quite remember what I was cutting, but I do remember somewhat struggling through it. Hubs came in (to the kitchen...which was deemed "my territory", by the way) and felt it would be helpful to further instruct me on which knife I should use to make my task easier. He couldn't understand why I was lacking appreciation for his advice. I couldn't understand why he was in there in the first place. My pride was hurt (feeling that I knew how to cut the darn thing myself), and his pride was hurt (feeling that he had helpful advice to share, but I wouldn't listen). After several exchanges of unkind words, we both sat on the couch....feeling defeated. Silent; arms folded and tight lipped. He wasn't going to cave, and neither was I. We would both still be sitting there to this very day if God didn't step in with His grand sense of humor. We had adopted our first cat by then. His name was Goldie. (I know...a very unmanly name for a male cat.) Well, Goldie happen to trot to his litter box during the very moment of our stone coldness. Apparently something did not sit well in his belly, for he then proceeded to have the loudest, stinkiest, nastiest diarrhea before our very eyes. It would have made even the highest commander in the U.S. Navy crack a smile. We couldn't help ourselves then. The walls of pride and frustration built around us were instantly torn down and replaced with hysterical laughter. You can't just ignore a thing like that. It was insanely ridiculous. As was our predicament, we decided. God used that silly, disgusting cat to remind us. We still get a good chuckle about it to this day.
We still have an occasional foolish argument over something that really doesn't matter. It makes life interesting, you know. But we're always brought around to the same conclusion...it's just nonsense. Stuff that doesn't matter. I'm so glad he's my partner in life. He may not be perfect; but then again, neither am I. We are simply two imperfect people trying to unite and encourage one another to become who God intended us to be. Marriage is about both of us striving to meet each other's needs. Not us making sure our needs are met. It's taken me many years to learn that, and I often need reminding. Because there is and always will be that "imperfect factor".
So, Hubs, if you're reading...I just love your little imperfect self. Thanks for putting up with this little imperfect self for all these years. And thanks for our little imperfect children. And our little imperfect house, and imperfect mini-farm.. I really do love it all. I had no idea I would have been this happy, fulfilled and content. Here's to thirteen more imperfect years, my love....
(P.S. Can this count as the card that I haven't had time to pick up yet?) :o)
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