We haven’t been at it for long. You and me. The we that we became somewhere in the midst of butterflies and sweating palms and tear-filled eyes. The best kind of tears. The kind of tears that welcomed me down the aisle and already felt like home.
We’re new at this. This thing we’ve heard about for years. This unconditional love that fills story books and writes songs and is good enough to die for, but even better to live for. How I pray we live long.
From the moment you took a knee I knew that it was glory. Glory intersecting a past that was far too messy and undeserving of your grace. I have room to grow. Yet still you chose to move into that room and make it your home. And what a home we’ve built since then.
How perfectly this sweet ring rests around my finger. The finger that’s held tight by your hand and soaks elbow-deep in dirty dishes and dances diligently through your laundry and works hard to make something special out of the little we have. The little that always seems like FAR MORE than we need.
You’ve made a woman out of me. In all the best ways.
I knew it from the moment that you and I snuck away between the ceremony and the reception and made our guests wait in the rain. Like two kids we laughed and ran and found our way to a holy place. And where we laid, time stood still. And that pouring rain fell and every ounce of it felt like God washing the sins of our pasts clean. Bringing life to something new. Something real. And with my wedding dress still on and our hearts pounding loud enough to hear, you made me your bride.
And we danced our first dance with your belt missing a loop and our guests laughed and whispered and I saw nothing but you. And your eyes. And my groom.
You’ve made a woman out of me.
We haven’t been at it for long, you and me. But you’ve been my greatest surprise–my most generous blessing. Your humility has taught me about strength. Your generosity, about living. Truly living. The kind of life that has little to do with us and everything to do with the us God desires us to be.
Your leadership has taught me about the value of following. A lesson that single-me’s pride wouldn’t learn. But you…you tudor me. You seduce it out of me. With your infectious ease and your patient grace. Somehow, some way, you wait quietly for the best of me. And somehow, some way, she crawls out. And she hushes my ego and my quick words and my fears. And she meets you for the glorious dance we’re learning every day.
You are a man. In every sense of the word…and in every way I never expected. In every way I needed. I thank God for you. For the early mornings you rise and the sleep you forfeit and the hours you clock–you work hard. For me. For us. For our family. Your work-ethic is building a foundation for the generations that will grow out of the love of you and me. I hope you know that I see you. And I hope you know I NEED you. In all the ways I never expected to need a man, I need you now. And I love you.
You’ve made a woman out of me.
I’m grateful for you. For the sacrifices you make for me. For the sacrifice you make of me when you know I’m needed elsewhere, too. You didn’t ask for this. For a wife whose mission field is ever-changing and always seems a flight away. For the nights we fall asleep in separate beds across the country and miss the way our limbs tangle together and our love seems to breath between the sheets. Thank you. For letting me stretch out my wild and wandering wings. For letting God use me as He needs. For pouring out alabaster grace on my travel-weary feet.
We’re new at this, you and me. But the way you slide your arm beneath my pillow and hold my hand as we drift off–it reminds me we’ll be at this for a while. Because when I wake in the middle of the night and my fingers ache and I realize ours are still intertwined tight, I stare at the man who first chose me. And I choose, in return, to never let go of the covenant that’s holding us tonight.
You…you’ve made a woman out of me. And I love you, deeply.
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