ten.

… i generally don’t believe in long-term plans. i think focusing too much on what the future looks like can stand in the way of seeing what’s right in front of you. i also think the story i would write for myself is often not nearly as incredible as what comes to be without all of the planning. my version is limited by my own experience, my vantage point at this moment in time, my understanding of “can” and “will” and what i believe to be realistic. i’ve come to understand there is a whole novel filled with chapters i can’t even yet imagine. that’s both beautiful and frightening.

ten years ago today i was standing at an altar, saying “i do,” and dreaming of all that was ahead. if you had asked me then what today would look like, it would probably involve me at home, wen at work, living in the suburbs of portland. car pool, class mom, meeting my girlfriends for coffee every morning. as lovely as that story sounds, it simply wasn’t ours.  and while i would have loved for us to be the main characters in that novel, the roles we play are exactly, perfectly, the ones we were  meant to be.

i’m so grateful for this life we’ve built together. i love that we are both open to allowing our story and our marriage to unfold with each new chapter. i love that we fell so naturally into this somewhat non-traditional family with him at home and me at work and both of us right where we are supposed to be. i love that the girls are growing up knowing that being a real man isn’t about the size of your paycheck but the size of your heart. i love that they are learning that being a mommy who works doesn’t make me any less maternal, loving, invested, present. i love that they are seeing that there are so many stories to be told, and we simply need to be open, willing and courageous enough to keep turning the pages.

our pages have brought us so much unexpected joy and adventure. they’ve also brought a fair share of hurt, anger, sadness. i remember before i got married my sister told me, remember, two imperfect people do not make a perfect marriage.  so true. we’re still learning, 10 years later, how to navigate this whole husband / wife dance. we make mistakes. ALL THE TIME. this past weekend we got into probably the biggest fight of our marriage. literally WWIII stuff. we both reached deep into our pockets for ammunition – low blows, hateful words, dirty looks. we grabbed all of these weapons and unleashed. it wasn’t pretty, to say the least. 2 days later we were still limping through the aftermath, the wounds were still deep and fresh and seemed too big for healing. but we slowly mended our way back together, apologizing, forgiving, extending grace, accepting grace. last night wen pulled me into an unexpected hug, and then held me a moment longer when i went to pull away.  that moment was filled with 10 years of commitment and intention and love. the love was so real.

marriage. it’s messy and amazing. it’s humbling and encouraging and terrible and wonderful. it’s painful. it’s beautiful. it’s all of these things. because of this, i truly don’t believe in happy endings. i believe, instead, in new beginnings. in waking up each morning ready to try again. to love bigger, to encourage more, laugh more, forgive more, try more. it’s saying with intention, i am going to love you today. i choose you. 

husband. 10 years. that’s 3,650 ‘good mornings’ and 3,650 ‘good nights.’ that’s thousands of ‘i love you’s’ and ‘i’m sorry’s’ and more laughs than i could count. and it all started with 1 very beautiful “will you?’ and 1 “yes!” and 2 “i do’s.” i do again, forever.