Burritos + Hockey = Love

Yesterday my husband and I celebrated our tenth anniversary.  Years ago, we had planned to celebrate our tenth anniversary by taking a second honeymoon to the west coast to see the Redwoods and Giant Sequoias.  Instead, we ordered take-out burritos and listened over the radio as the Detroit Red Wings lost game seven of their playoff series.

I know what you're thinking.  Nothing says romance like big bean burritos and hockey. 

But we weren't completely without romance; I discovered a dozen roses waiting for me after my husband left for work in the morning (actually eleven roses, as a cat had eaten one during the night), and we exchanged love letters during the day.  We fed the kids dinner, put them to bed, and had the rest of the evening to ourselves....and the baby....and the Red Wings.  It was a nice, companionable evening, although I suppose it could have been better.  The Red Wings could have won.  Stupid Red Wings.

Don't worry, hubby and I will be going out on a "real" date next week, and exchanging anniversary gifts for the first time in our marriage.  We've agreed that this anniversary is one we want to commemorate with something big (though we had a baby instead of seeing the Redwoods).  Ten years is an important milestone, after all.  Especially with all we've made it through. 

Ten years ago, I married my best friend.  The only person that could make me laugh any time and anywhere, and that made the dullest of my moments come to life.  Passionate about music and creativity and intelligence, he loved me when I feared no one ever really would.  And so I married him.

We've done the usual in our marriage:  gotten new jobs, became first-time homeowners, redecorated our home, purchased cars, acquired cats, became parents for the first time.

We've done the unusual:  acquired LOTS of cats, formed a band, sung at coffee shops, recorded a CD, adopted older children with special needs, had a surprise pregnancy, became parents for the fifth time.

We've experienced the good:  camping, car trips, family vacations, picnics, bike rides, late-evening badminton games, hours of Boggle...or Yahtzee...or Skip-Bo, cuddling in front of a movie, two adoptions, the births of three babies, watching our babies grow- first smiles, first steps, first words.

And also the bad:  the death of our favorite cat, the loss of beloved grandparents, two tough deliveries with terrifying moments, a baby born with a noticeable birth defect, two children with attachment problems, hours of raging tantrums- feeling helpless, hopeless, angry and ineffective as parents.

But there's more.  In our ten years of marriage, we've also been through addictions, painful confessions and altercations.  We've at times been completely devoid of trust and intimacy.  We've been heartbroken and afraid.  We've had moments when we didn't think it would work, when it felt like there was nothing worth saving.  There came a time, though, now several years ago, that we were able to celebrate my husband's salvation and turn our marriage over to Jesus.  It was then that we learned something:

No marriage is perfect, even if it looks like it from the outside.  Some people are just better at building a facade than others. 

We all bring our own sins and our own baggage with us into our marriages, and they are bound to affect it.  But the same ugly hurts and betrayals that Satan uses to destroy marriages can be used by God to strengthen them ...if only we will let Him.

Ten years ago, I married my best friend.  We're still best friends, but it's been quite a decade.  We've laughed, we've cried, we've loved, we've hurt.  We've walked our own way, and we've walked with Jesus; we're learning what it means to die to ourselves and serve each other...to wash one another's feet.  One thing is for certain: we know way more about true love- Christ's love for us and our love for each other- than we did on our wedding day.

To my wonderful, God-fearing, hilarious, musical genius (snob) of a good-looking husband:  after all Jesus has brought us through, I would still marry you all over again.  Let's go see the Redwoods at twenty years...K?  Stupid Red Wings.