In 21 years, we’ve gone from bulking up to bearing up. We’ve built dozens of houses but made only one home. We’ve born babies, buried our hearts, gone bald, and given as boldly as we dared. We’ve battled with words, bought at all costs, and built dreams no one else could see. You are the beautiful gentleness that saw my heart for what it could be. You gave my voice a chance to be heard through a tapping our of keys, and I got comfortable with the idea of you purchasing the ugliest beast of a warehouse this side of town. I romance our past and you modernize our future. You chart and calculate and ask thousands of questions, and in the process, hold the string of the kite I’m sailing on. I dance and dream, and drum up far too many possibilities, and in the process, lead you to places that drop your jaw.
Thank you for staying the course through thousands of miles. For holding on through the highs and the painful lows. Thank you for holding my hand and respecting my heart. Thank you for seeing a covenant worth keeping. For reminding me to seek the Savior when all I want to do is run. For listening to my quietness. For honoring my solitude. Thank you for loving all the parts of me, even the broken ones. Thank you for 21 years, Love. Happy Anniversary (yesterday).