Fourteen years of sharing life with my best friend

Fourteen years of falling asleep beside him, every night.

Fourteen years of learning, and then being reminded over and over again, just how much strength and love and grace there is in my husband.

Fourteen years of long conversations about everything and nothing and lots of things in between.

Fourteen years of work and babies and sleepless nights and hard decisions.

Fourteen years of house projects and learning to cook and learning to garden and figuring out what we can live with and what we should live without.

Fourteen years of never going to bed angry.

Fourteen years of growing a family and everything that comes with it.

Fourteen years of coming to grips with imperfection, in myself and in him, and realizing that imperfection in loving doesn’t mean absence of love.

Fourteen years of leaning heavily on him and becoming increasingly aware of how much of a “weaker vessel” I am.

Fourteen years of, almost daily, wondering how in the world I could be so blessed that he thinks I’m someone worth loving.

Fourteen years with a husband who I am thankful for beyond words.