Did you ever hear that song by Train about the guy who was afraid to say hello to the girl in the cafe?
I mean, they won’t admit it, but they totally wrote that song about us.
Because that was our “meet cute”. (Is the mushy stuff making you queasy yet? Oops.)
You know that semi-cheesy but always sweet moment in romance movies when the girl drops her books and the random guy on the street picks them up for her? Or when two people both reach for a doorknob at the same time? The meet cute.
But then there’s that moment of the meet cute when you have to leap, when you have to hold your breath and take a risk.
When I was waiting tables my senior year at a restaurant in my college town, this guy who stopped me dead in my tracks walked in and sat right in my booth with his friends. And then my brain rattled around in my head for a while as I tried to pull myself together to take his order.
Eventually, his friends left and somehow this slow night at work save for this one table where he was sitting turned into the best conversation I’d ever had with anyone.
We talked and laughed for 3 hours straight before I realized it was closing time. And that’s when Robert worked up the nerve to ask me out for a real date. The leap. That one defining moment that would change the rest of our lives.
Tomorrow officially marks 5 years of our biggest leap- our wedding day. And I can’t believe how quickly time as flown and how much more I love this man of mine than the day before.
But in these 5 years, I’ve learned we still have to continue to leap.
In our first year of marriage, when we found out we were expecting and just barely making the financial ends meet as it was, we had to leap.
We had to trust that God was going to get us through and had to move in with my parents to survive that money struggle.
In our second year of marriage, we had to leap.
We had to trust each other as we navigated the mysterious waters of being new parents while juggling new jobs and saving up to make it on our own. We had to learn to provide forgiveness and grace in the challenges that come in life with a newborn.
In our third year of marriage, we had to leap.
We had to hold hands and pray together every night for a home that would finally become ours. We had to learn that not everything was in our control and yet someone with a better plan who knew what was best for us was in control anyway. It was then that we unlocked the door to our first home that would continue to open many doors after.
In our fourth year of marriage, we had to leap.
We had to make the decision to follow our instincts for me to leave my job as a high school teacher so I could raise up our daughter at home full-time. The financial challenges came knocking at our door again. But together and with some sacrifices, we persevered to make it work.
In our fifth year of marriage, we had to leap.
We had to keep staying motivated in our home together as we tested our abilities and learned and grew as new homeowners together. And eventually, what we prayed so hard about together before, in hoping to find fulfillment to create and to provide for our family, this little blog became that answer.
Now, as we take a step into our 6th year, I hope that we can continue to leap, and I hope that you do too. Every day.
Because it’s those leaps- those moments when we challenge ourselves to trust, to learn, to grow, to persevere – that is what defines us as individuals and in our relationships. We were never promised a lifetime of total happiness. We were promised a lifetime of grace and forgiveness and love in all of its many forms (and as a result, probably plenty of laughter sprinkled in).
It’s those tough days of a marriage when you have to give and receive grace from each other that make those happy days even more worth it.
These 5 years have far exceeded anything I ever imagined for my life from the beginning when I walked down the aisle. And I can’t wait to see what God has planned for us next.
Hope you have a beautiful weekend, friends!
*A big thank you to Alisha Rudd Photography for our family photos! (She’s the toddler whisperer.)