One year ago today, I woke up next to my sister Rachel and spent the entire day at the beauty salon preparing for the moment I’d been waiting for: walking down the aisle towards my groom. The man I had waited for, prayed for, lost hope for, and finally found. This morning, I woke up next to my groom and dressed for work quickly so I could write this blog post before he awakes. I probably should cook him a big breakfast, we you know how good I am at early mornings and cooking.

As I think back over the past year of marriage, I could never have been prepared for what this year held. And I could never have imagined a man as gracious, kind, forgiving, and loving as my Michael. This year, I’ve had more fun than I’ve ever had in my entire life. We laugh a lot and try not to take ourselves too seriously. The best part? Marriage changes you deep in the recesses of your being as only love can.

I love Michael because he listens to my endless stories with entirely too many details and doesn’t complain about my verbal processing. I love that he makes me laugh more than anyone else on the planet. I love that he provides not just for my needs, but also my wants. (recent wants: new shoes, a month of Hot Yoga, lots of Starbucks, etc.) He eats whatever I put in front of him and has fanned the fire alarm more times than I can count this year. Michael loves me even before my morning coffee. He splits the household chores with me without complaining even when I point out “you forgot to wipe the baseboards, dear”. {I can be a little bossy}. I love that he is always pushing me to pursue my dreams.

Michael has shown me this year that I am worth loving. The moment that sticks out when I had a complete meltdown about a laundry list of things: first it was “I have the worst clothes and absolutely nothing to wear” which then turned into “I have the worst body and why has no one told me I’m fat?!?” and then somehow morphed into “I’m a terrible writer and people just pretend to like my blog because they don’t want to hurt my feelings.” Michael just listened to me vent and when I was finished listing my woes wrapped me in his embrace and simply said, “Oh sweetheart.” He didn’t try to fix me; just held me and in effect told me he heard my song. A note for my male readers: we females really are all crazy.

I ask too many questions. I am entirely too sensitive. I often leave for work with a trail of unchosen outfits strewn across our extra room, my breakfast dishes in the sink, and the curling iron still on. I crawl in bed with bright white zit cream dotted across my face. I complain. I say things I don’t mean. But despite all these flaws, Michael holds me every night before we go to bed and prays for our family. He tells me he loves me and kisses me goodnight, no matter what disagreements we had that day. I reply, “I love with you my whole heart,”  and mean it every single night.

My love, my husband, my leader, my groom—I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. For this is truly only the beginning of our joy together.

If you liked this post, you may also like:

• Laughter Makes The Heart Grow Fonder
• E.R. Visits & Companions for Life
• But First, Coffee | On Growing a Marriage
• Recommended Reading On Life, Marriage, and Christian Living