grateful for: the husband.

{one of many date nights, year one}

For the past several days, Jordan and I have been home sick with possibly the worst colds since the ones that hit us the week after our wedding two years ago (today!). We've been in this vicious cycle that I suppose is common among those who are married: I was sick, then he got sick. I sneezed; he sneezed. He coughed; I coughed. We're at least seven days in, and I'm not quite sure how to break the cycle when I'm sleeping with the one doing most of the coughing and sneezing.

Yesterday, in what feels like for the first time in our marriage, we couldn't even make it to church. The alarm went off, and we both looked and each other and knew: Nope. Not happening. 

I was disappointed. A long-distance friend was in town, and Sundays are often some of my best and most favorite days (when they're not bombarded by church committee meetings or unnecessary drama).

But last night, when Jordan suggested we take the Lord's Supper together, a tradition our church participates in each week, I realized that, as my father so often reminded us while growing up, you don't go to church. Church is the people. Church is the body. Christ's body. And my husband is a member of the body. 

Together, we prayed, read Scripture, and ate and drank much like I think the first century believers did. It felt very holy, to be together in our precious, safe, warm home, worshipping together. And as I listened to my husband's voice pray to the One we love, I remembered: This is why I married him.

Yes, he leaves his dirty boxers on the floor. He eats dry cereal in the bathroom and leaves dirty dishes in the sink. His car is a mess, and he forgets things I say and doesn't always do what I want, when I want. 

But during last night's communion together, I remembered a phone call I had with the man who married us. He called a few weeks before the wedding. He wanted the story of us, to get each of our perspectives on the other. The ceremony he performed, by the way, was so touching and so very personal. I've got it somewhere, and perhaps one day, when I find it, I'll share it here. That night he called, though, he asked just a few questions, and one of them, I think, was basically this: What made you pick Jordan? 

I honestly don't remember exactly what I told him, but I remember the gist. I answered that above all, I knew not a day would go by that Jordan wouldn't put God very first in his life. Jordan is imperfect in many ways. So am I. But I knew that each morning, he would wake up without a single doubt as to who was Lord of his life. 

This second year of marriage has been full of so many ups and downs: big decisions, bar exams, grad school, a new dog, and countless challenges only Jordan and I will ever know. It has not been perfect, and it has not been easy. But the blessings that have come with this marriage are innumerable, and I have no doubt that's because of the man leading our home. 

Happy anniversary, Jordan. I am pleased to walk through this life with you by my side, and I can't wait to see what adventures this, our third year together, will hold.

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Throughout the latter part of November, I'm dedicating my time to the things that fill my life with joy. You can find more posts on gratitude through the month of November here.