Twenty Years.

Those babies up there? That’s us.

January 16, 1993 was the day we said “I do.” We were kids. Children. Nineteen years old, crazy in love, and convinced we were ready for the road ahead.

We’d dated for two years. Been engaged for fourteen long months. And on that unseasonably warm January afternoon, two very immature people launched into one incredible journey.

Five cities, two states, four houses, two apartments, four kids, one adoption, countless stupid dogs, and a couple of minivans later, it’s still a great journey. I still love my Merriem. If I have five minutes or five days, I’d still rather spend it with her than with anyone else. She’s the one who puts up with my corny jokes, patiently talks me down off the ledge, and consistently brings out my best.

She challenges me, loves me, takes care of me, and dreams with me. Nobody else can make me more spittin’ mad than her, and nobody else can make my heart skip a beat like her. She’s seen me through better and worse, richer and poorer, and sickness and health. She’s taught me more about the gospel than any preacher, any book, or any sermon. She’s been a living, breathing example of Jesus to me, and constantly, consistently points me to him.

And doggone it, she’s cute.

I shudder to think what the last twenty years would have been like without her by my side. Has it always been a fairy tale? Far from it. We’re a couple of sinners that have often tried to make idols out of each other and went to war when our puny gods failed us. But by the grace of the God who redeems us and our marriages for his glory, we keep pressing ahead.

Outside of the cross, she is the clearest picture of the mercy of God in my life. I love her heart and soul, and she’s still the one I want to grow old with. My “I do” stood twenty years ago, and today?

I still do.

I love you babe.