Every year we say, “Wow, we cannot believe it’s been ___ number of years since we got married.” And we really can’t. I wonder if we’ll always feel like that. I hope so. It’s a special feeling. A feeling of pride that we’ve reached another mile marker, that the other person has still put up with the other for another year. Three cheers to that!
We bought a piece of art for our house the other day. Not like ART, but like TJ Maxx $9.99 art. I saw it and wanted it but I didn’t buy it. Then when we were there together a few days later, I showed it to Shawn and told him that it was the picture that I loved. Without thinking twice, he grabbed it, marched right to the register and bought it for me. Aww!
It says “Theirs was a love story” and it has two birds on it, sitting side by side, on a typewriter. They’re us, in bird form. (Not really, that would be ridicules. And way too cheesy.)
Then, two days later I read a Shauna Niequist quote that read, “A love story needs to be written a little bit every day.”
I love that quote. It reminds me that you don’t have to have the perfect storybook relationship from day 1, with Hollywood hair or scenes of him twirling her in the ocean or her surprising him with homemade apple pies or long passionate kisses at the end of every day.
It’s him forgiving her when she said the rudest thing ever. On purpose. Again.
It’s her jumping up and grabbing him a glass of water when he says he’s thirsty. It’s the little things that add up over time.
It’s 11 years of saying, “friends?” at the end of an argument. It’s sealing the deal with a handshake. As dorky as it may sound, it confirms that we still care, that we’re in it for the long haul, and that the argument is officially over, that forgiveness has taken place.
It’s her reminding him of all the reasons she thinks he’s handsome.
It’s him untangling her necklaces for the umpteenth time.
It’s an understanding that we’re different people. People with different personalities, interests, backgrounds and childhoods.
It’s him letting her sleep on the long drive home.
It’s all the ways he makes it known that he will do everything he can to protect her.
It’s them planning a date night, even if it’s just walking around the block and watching Netflix. It’s setting aside time to be together, to talk, in an otherwise chaotic life.
It’s being there for the other person when grief comes out of nowhere.
It’s her attempting to make him the best breakfast burrito ever, because he likes that kind of thing.
It’s her not saying anything after something traumatic happened to him overseas, it’s her just being there by his side as he processes.
It’s them remembering that no one is perfect. That everyone has their flaws and quirks.
It’s remembering to laugh about it.
It’s day-by-day choices that bring us to yet another September 18th, when we celebrate that the love story is STILL being written.
By the grace of God, 11 years later, it’s still being written.