It took me 30 years to get married. There are a number of reasons for this: I am shy, I spent the first two-thirds of my 20s being overweight, and I am picky. Until two years ago, I was the classic single-girl-in-her-20s, being happy for her friends as they all found mates and married, but also secretly wondering (fearing?) if a lifetime of singledom was in my future. Somewhere along the way, however, I found the guts to try online dating, I lost weight, and I found the absolutely perfect person for me.
As my first wedding anniversary approaches next month, I find myself thinking back over those single years and comparing them to this first year of being married. I am not going to say that my life began the day I got married, because that’s not true. While single, I nurtured meaningful friendships, found work fulfillment as a teacher, became more committed in my faith, and traveled around the world. Yet what I can say is that the life I had worked throughout my 20s to build became infinitely richer the day I got married. Our marriage is not perfect–we are not perfect, after all–but it is ours and it is wonderful.
I could spend quite a while listing everything that I love about my husband, but I will stick to one example for today. Yesterday I spent the day at home resting, trying to recover from a bad head cold and a 14-hour field trip to Austin with my 4th graders. John had a work event all day, but he still went to the grocery store on his way home because we needed food. While there, he picked up these for me as a surprise:
Yes, marriage is lovely, indeed.