28th on the 28th

Paul and I have been married 28 years today.   Anniversaries are always a good time for reflecting on the past and looking ahead to the future.  It seems a bonus to me that we get to do this at the end of the calendar year as well as the end of another year of marriage.

I'm sure a wedding just three days after Christmas didn't seem like a bonus in 1986 to my parents, but I promised it would never happen again.  (The bonus was the son-in-law whom they adore.)

In the kind sovereignty of God, we celebrated our anniversary last weekend because our married sons had given us tickets to a Phil Keaggy concert in Pennsylvania, so we went away Saturday (the 20th) and came back Sunday night.  Our daughter came to the house to watch her "baby brother" and the dog for us.  They're wonderful kids; they really spoil us.

The timing was perfect to be celebrating because on Monday we both got sick. Worst coughs we have had in years. Fever, aches, fatigue.  It was so bad that we had to cancel all plans with our grown kids for Christmas Eve.  We're much better now, but not up to venturing out for an "on the day" dinner as I always wish for.

Rather than write a new post, I'll just copy and paste what's been on my heart today, and what I posted to Facebook this morning:

28 on the 28th. 

We took our vows seriously on that candlelit, slightly snowy night in December of 1986, but boy, were we ever clueless! 

We had God, each other, supportive families and friends, a dinky apartment, and 8 million dreams for happily ever after. 

I didn't understand that marriage actually took work and sacrifice. (My parents had made it look it so easy.) 

I didn't realize that being parents ourselves would be the hardest and best joint venture of our lives. 

I never pictured being injured in childbirth in a way that would make me wholly dependent on his strength, untrained nursing skills, and uncanny fatherly ways with a newborn. 

In 28 years, I have never once doubted Paul's faithfulness, even when I've been the ugliest, hardest person on earth to live with.

I have never feared for our finances because he is a competent provider and wise money manager. His guitar playing brings me comfort and joy. 

His handy skills make me hot for him. (Sorry, kids. Mom still has hormones.) 

But most of all, in 28 years of being married to my Paul, I have learned firsthand that God knows what He's doing when he brings together two stubborn donkeys who say those two little-but-loaded words, "I do." I love you, Paul... and always will.