happy anniversary

 

Today is the kind of day you just never imagine will actually happen to you.

It’s not the kind of day people plan for or dream of—I don’t think most little girls playing princess imagine themselves here where I am at this moment. Romance movies and novels tend to be cut off well before now, with our hero and heroine riding off into the sunset toward their wedding ceremony and that nebulous term “happily ever after” that always seems to happen off-screen. Subconsciously, we too tend to stop imagining right there—right after that delightful mental image of ourselves in a flowing white dress, dewy-eyed brides standing at the altar with our Knight in Shining Armor.

Maybe some of us spare a thought for our honeymoon, or for the kind of family we might raise. But I, for one, never thought about this day—my first anniversary.

Yes, it’s already been one whole year since the day that a lot of girls spend the entirety of their youths dreaming of. And it is with delight, with joy, with such gratefulness to the grace of God that I can say: the happily ever after is better than the courtship. Better than the wedding. Better than the honeymoon.

My mom always advised me and my sisters growing up to marry our best friend, like she did thirty years ago. I followed her example because I saw that it worked—only now I’m beginning to understand why: because no matter how passionately in love you are, no matter what kind of butterflies you get being around him, ninety-nine percent of your married life will be spent in the small but sweet interactions characteristic of two dear friends. You will hang out together, you will work on projects together, you will eat meals together, you will talk together about anything and everything. You will even spend a lot of time apart, yet your every action—even menial ones like cleaning the toilet or making dinner—will still be influenced by your relationship to the other person. There is still room for the passion and the romance, and the part that they play is vital, but measured by time it is comparatively small.

Sam is my best friend. He had been for a long while before we ever said “I do.” He was always the person I wanted to talk to when I was lonely. He was the person who stuck by me through a hard year of Bible school in Florida. He was the person who braved more pre-nuptial meltdowns than anyone else even knew about. Now, he is the person who walks hand-in-hand with me while we both follow Jesus; he is the person who shows me bottomless Christlike grace when I am miserably selfish and sinful. He is my supporter in my business, my work, and my writing. He is my best friend, my first and only love.

I love you, Sam. Happy first anniversary. :)