My husband and I just celebrated ten whopping years of marriage, and I’m taking this week to brag on him just a little bit.
I posted the following picture of us when we went out to celebrate last weekend.
But let me take you back to the thunder and lightning seven months prior.
In December of last year, we were forced to replace one of our cars a little sooner than planned. And that’s when the drizzle started. We were still paying my daughter’s tuition at private school, and of course we had incurred the expenses of a newborn (why are diapers and formula so doggone expensive?) My son has also had a long string of doctor’s appointments at the pediatrician’s, dermatologist’s and urologist’s offices. He also had surgery in May. A month ago, Brent had a root canal AND a crown replacement, and then we discovered I needed a crown. Just FYI, this is why we believe in having an emergency fund of 3-6 months living expenses, because when it rains, it pours! It feels like we’ve been using a salad shooter to shell out our money for months now.
Needless to say, two weeks ago, I wasn’t really in a celebratory mood. But, it was only because I was being pragmatic.
Last summer, Brent and I decided we would take a vacation to celebrate our 10 years, but with our financial outgo since December, we decided it best to put it off for another year’s celebration. Dinner was all we needed.
And then the week of our anniversary rolled around, and my son succumbed to a stomach bug. It was also the same week Brent and I were both having dental work done. Just to tell you how emotionally and physically drained I was, having a 6 inch needle stabbed into three different places in my mouth was a welcomed break to the chaos at home. I was sitting in that dental chair and all I could think about was how I didn’t want to celebrate our anniversary. All of the things I normally would die for, I didn’t want. I didn’t want him to buy me a card. I didn’t want him to buy me flowers. I didn’t want to go to dinner. I just wanted to wait until the storm cloud had rolled away and we could celebrate later. As soon as I got home, I cried into his shoulder and asked him to cancel our Friday night plans.
I just couldn’t do it.
Brent was adamant about going to dinner, but he agreed with our little one sick, we needed to move the date to the following weekend.
Brent’s not the romantic type (like, hardly ever). But he surprised me to no end last weekend. Not only did he plan the babysitting and make reservations at one of the best restaurants in Winter Park, he also secretly packed an overnight bag and whisked me away after dinner (we won’t talk about how I cried when I realized I wasn’t going home to my baby…it’s okay, it didn’t take me too long to recover).
From a delectable meal, to singing throwback songs as we drove in the car, the night was absolutely perfect. I know we’ll make it to Hawaii some day (hint, hint, B), but I loved our simple one night away, because when it comes down to it, it’s not the stuff that I love. It’s him.
Also, mad props to a man who can pack an overnight bag and have it hidden in the car in less than two minutes…completely undetected.
Some days are bright, some days are dark. It’s important to remember from where you came and where you’re going. And when things seem stressful and like they’re never going to end, take heart in the fact it most likely is just a season of life.
That’s right. Now go dust of that old Byrds vinyl and sip on a bottled soda as you listen to “Turn! Turn! Turn!”
At our anniversary dinner, we laughed at how we aren’t where we thought we would be when we first got married. We discussed where we’d probably be in the next 10…but who are we kidding.
We all know God smirks when we make our plans.