The next thing I knew, I had been married for SIX MONTHS WHAT and winter was beginning to melt into Spring slush. Rumor has it that it may hit 65 degrees this Wednesday, I missed picking up my hold from the library, and I’ve cleaned the kitchen four times in the past 24 hours. I’m reading through the Gospels in 30 days (ok more like 75 days at this point RIP), thought I had COVID but ended up sorely disappointed, and have discovered a latent obsession for extreme sour patch kids. I think I’m done with our taxes, hosted brunch this morning, and am savoring sunshine. My Spotify playlist is still a weird mix of stuff that’s mostly circa 2013. I have ups and downs emotionally about the world, my health, and if I’m doing enough for the Lord (spoiler, that’s a bad trap to get into and is a
Today my sweet husband went to work and I was puttering around the apartment tidying when I found a treasure. I was cleaning up the kitchen table and putting away his old laptop into its case when I found a giant cache of every love letter I ever wrote to him over the four+ years of our relationship. I knew he had saved them, but to find them all at once in one pile was overwhelmingly dear. I read through a few of them and smiled at the sheer amount of affection within them.
What a joy that our hope was fulfilled and here we are today, three months married, and the Lord helps me grow in love for him in deeper ways than I previously believed to exist. I did not know that I could have such deep attachment to another person who is so other from me. And it