One day, I don’t want to look over at my husband and say, “Man…we’ve had such a perfect, smooth ride. You’ve never aggravated, saddened, or frustrated me. You’ve never neglected to match your outfit just perfectly before we go out. You’ve never failed to be more romantic than every single lead, male romantic comedy character. You’ve always been available every second I wished. You’ve always said just the right thing at just the right time. You’ve always surprised me with twelve dozen roses every time I’ve had a bad day. You’ve always agreed with everything I’ve ever wanted to do. And this is why I love you.”
I want to look over and say, “Man…we’ve had the best ride. You’ve aggravated, saddened, and frustrated me...and we’re still here. Twenty-five years and you’ve finally learned to match your pants and socks. You’re the goofiest, craziest man I know. For every second you weren’t available, it wasn’t hard to remember all the times you were. You didn’t always know what to say…but were always the first to listen. When I’ve had a bad day, you remind me who I am and encourage me through faith in God’s provisions. We haven’t always agreed on exactly what to do, but we’ve always moved forward and taken on the world together. And THIS…is why I love you.”
