Three years and nine months ago, I was waiting (impatiently) in the airport Starbucks to see Brian again. He was flying in from Texas to spend his spring break getting to know this new city I had moved to and the new church I had just started working for. But it wasn’t just a casual visit—he was previewing his new life.
Three years and nine months ago, after I spent a few minutes in confusion and was tipped off by an old lady, and I finally saw him. He came around the corner, sweating and flustered and carrying three dozen roses. He handed them to me, kissed me, and told me I should probably put them down. Brian got down on one knee, right there, and asked me to be his wife. (He would want me to tell you that I nodded and said, “Uh huh!” So he asked me if that meant yes, and I said, “Duh!”) Brian’s plan for the perfect proposal didn’t quite work out as planned, but it ended perfectly—with a yes and some quick pictures and a bottle of champagne as his friends ran to catch their connecting flight. And I couldn’t stop looking at my ring all day.
Three years and four months ago, I cried as Brian flew around the world to spend six weeks in Germany. Six weeks as compared to a lifetime really isn’t that long, but I felt every second we were apart. I held on to the promise he had given me, with platinum and diamonds and his heart—the promise that he was mine, and I was his, and that soon it would be official and we would start our lives together.
Three years ago today, I had barely slept. It was like Christmas morning times a million, knowing the incredible gift I would receive that day. I fell asleep so late, woke up so early, and my girlfriends piled in my bed to watch old “Friends” episodes in the wee hours of the morning to laugh and help the time pass quickly. When the sun came up, we went to the salon—that opened early just for us—to get our hair done. We laughed some more and ate m&m’s for breakfast. I only had to wait until 11 am to become a wife, but it felt like days. We got ready together in the bridal suite, and people kept coming in and out to see me—my youth group girls, my parents, Brian’s parents, our friends, even his groomsmen. Brian was all alone in his room, not allowed to leave lest he see me too early. We took some pictures in the radiant morning light, and then it was finally time.
Three years ago today, I peeked through the hidden window in the back of the sanctuary to see everyone waiting. I watched as Brian took his spot at the front of the church. I heard the string quartet begin their sweet song, and one by one my friends preceded me down the aisle. And then—the moment I had been waiting for—I walked down the aisle to the smiling, handsome, excited man I was about to marry.
Three years ago today, I was on the verge of tears before my brother cracked an inside joke from the pulpit. I was reminded that marriage is from God, and that our choices should not break that covenant God has given to us. I listened to Brian make promises to me, and I made them in return. We said we would spend our lives always trying to love each other better. We said no matter what. And once again, Brian gave me a perfect circle of precious metal and jewels as a symbol of his love.
Three years later, on this anniversary of the day we said “I will” – that circle is a little banged up. It has been cleaned and reshaped and checked and polished. It has some dents and knicks. It’s not perfect—and it’s because of its imperfection that I love it even more. Our love has seen hard days and happy ones, date nights and arguments. We have been impatient and selfish, and we’ve given all that we have. We have prayed together, but not enough. We have shared dreams, passions, fears, and a trillion laughs. We have spent days apart, and gone only minutes without talking again. We have loved, and tomorrow we will choose to love again.
Today, our anniversary happened to fall on a Wednesday. And so we have decided to celebrate by sharing the tiny crumbs of wisdom we have learned in the past three years with the teenagers in our youth group. We love having the privilege of living life in front of them—literally. Many of them were there three years ago to witness our vows, and we want them to know that we still mean it. (And then we’re going to leave everyone behind and celebrate all by ourselves.)
Today, I love my husband more than I did three years ago. I know him more deeply, and I can’t even imagine what God has in store for us next. There isn’t anyone I’d rather spend this life—or the next five minutes—with. He always makes me laugh, he always holds me when I cry, and he always, always, supports my dreams and hopes. I know myself, so I know what he has to put up with, and I am just amazed that he loves me more every day.
Today, I am grateful to our amazing Father for the best gift imaginable—someone to share my life with who loves me just like He does—unconditionally.
Three years and nine months ago, after I spent a few minutes in confusion and was tipped off by an old lady, and I finally saw him. He came around the corner, sweating and flustered and carrying three dozen roses. He handed them to me, kissed me, and told me I should probably put them down. Brian got down on one knee, right there, and asked me to be his wife. (He would want me to tell you that I nodded and said, “Uh huh!” So he asked me if that meant yes, and I said, “Duh!”) Brian’s plan for the perfect proposal didn’t quite work out as planned, but it ended perfectly—with a yes and some quick pictures and a bottle of champagne as his friends ran to catch their connecting flight. And I couldn’t stop looking at my ring all day.
Three years and four months ago, I cried as Brian flew around the world to spend six weeks in Germany. Six weeks as compared to a lifetime really isn’t that long, but I felt every second we were apart. I held on to the promise he had given me, with platinum and diamonds and his heart—the promise that he was mine, and I was his, and that soon it would be official and we would start our lives together.
Three years ago today, I had barely slept. It was like Christmas morning times a million, knowing the incredible gift I would receive that day. I fell asleep so late, woke up so early, and my girlfriends piled in my bed to watch old “Friends” episodes in the wee hours of the morning to laugh and help the time pass quickly. When the sun came up, we went to the salon—that opened early just for us—to get our hair done. We laughed some more and ate m&m’s for breakfast. I only had to wait until 11 am to become a wife, but it felt like days. We got ready together in the bridal suite, and people kept coming in and out to see me—my youth group girls, my parents, Brian’s parents, our friends, even his groomsmen. Brian was all alone in his room, not allowed to leave lest he see me too early. We took some pictures in the radiant morning light, and then it was finally time.
Three years ago today, I peeked through the hidden window in the back of the sanctuary to see everyone waiting. I watched as Brian took his spot at the front of the church. I heard the string quartet begin their sweet song, and one by one my friends preceded me down the aisle. And then—the moment I had been waiting for—I walked down the aisle to the smiling, handsome, excited man I was about to marry.
Three years ago today, I was on the verge of tears before my brother cracked an inside joke from the pulpit. I was reminded that marriage is from God, and that our choices should not break that covenant God has given to us. I listened to Brian make promises to me, and I made them in return. We said we would spend our lives always trying to love each other better. We said no matter what. And once again, Brian gave me a perfect circle of precious metal and jewels as a symbol of his love.
Three years later, on this anniversary of the day we said “I will” – that circle is a little banged up. It has been cleaned and reshaped and checked and polished. It has some dents and knicks. It’s not perfect—and it’s because of its imperfection that I love it even more. Our love has seen hard days and happy ones, date nights and arguments. We have been impatient and selfish, and we’ve given all that we have. We have prayed together, but not enough. We have shared dreams, passions, fears, and a trillion laughs. We have spent days apart, and gone only minutes without talking again. We have loved, and tomorrow we will choose to love again.
Today, our anniversary happened to fall on a Wednesday. And so we have decided to celebrate by sharing the tiny crumbs of wisdom we have learned in the past three years with the teenagers in our youth group. We love having the privilege of living life in front of them—literally. Many of them were there three years ago to witness our vows, and we want them to know that we still mean it. (And then we’re going to leave everyone behind and celebrate all by ourselves.)
Today, I love my husband more than I did three years ago. I know him more deeply, and I can’t even imagine what God has in store for us next. There isn’t anyone I’d rather spend this life—or the next five minutes—with. He always makes me laugh, he always holds me when I cry, and he always, always, supports my dreams and hopes. I know myself, so I know what he has to put up with, and I am just amazed that he loves me more every day.
Today, I am grateful to our amazing Father for the best gift imaginable—someone to share my life with who loves me just like He does—unconditionally.
we’ve been together for a while now
growing stronger every day now
it feels so good and there is no doubt
I will stay with you
as each morning brings a sunrise
and the flowers bloom in springtime
on my love you can rely
and I’ll stay with you
~ john legend
we love each other becauseHe loved us first.~ 1 John 4:19
2 comments:
Happy Anniversary, Andersons! I loved reading your story. :) Hope dessert was lots of fun tonight!
Yay for the Andersons! I am so glad you two had a meaningful anniversary! I love you both and think you compliment each other perfectly.
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