six years.

image courtesy of google.

When Luke and I were dating, I asked him a lot of hypothetical questions. And he loved it.

(No. No, he didn’t. But he put up with them. So I married him.)

My favorite question was “If I fell out of a boat, into the deepest, coldest water, would you jump in and save me?”

He’d just look at me, roll his eyes, and say “Of course I would.” As if it were a no-brainer.

What he didn’t know is that it wasn’t a no-brainer. Not to me. I mean, how well did I really know this guy. Sure, he was sweet and wonderful and seemingly my perfect other half. But could I trust him to jump into freezing cold waters for me? With sharks? And jelly fish? And seaweed?

What I was really asking in my not-so-subtle way, was could I really trust him to love me, support me, stick by me, … FOR-EVER?

Six years later, I still ask hypothetical questions and he still rolls his eyes. But the nature of my questioning has taken a sharp turn toward the less crazy – and  is definitely light years away from the visions of being alone on a dark, frigid ocean floor.

He would save me. Of course. It’s a no-brainer now. And not only would he save me, but he’d love me even if acid covered 85 percent of my body and left me bedridden for the rest of my life. He’d love me even if I lied, stole, harbored a fugitive, whatever. I don’t have to ask him these hypotheticals anymore because it-is-a-no-brainer. By loving the way he loves, he taught me that I am really so loved. He models our Father's love so well. It's effective.

“Dating” Luke is the same as “married” luke. He wasn’t trying to impress me back in the day by being doting and sweet. He IS doting and sweet. He DOES keep his promises. He really ISN'T too good to be true. He IS true. He has been my too-good-to-be-true-but-is-really-true since the moment I met him.

He has always been the same person since day one. This is my favorite thing about him. I worry about other people changing. I worry about me changing. But him, I never worry about.

We are not perfect. We argue. We get annoyed. Our laundry list of annoyances is admittedly longer after six years together.

But I can’t get too upset about that. Because our love is bigger and greater, too. I thought it was good back then, when I was being swept up in this whirlwind of finding my one. When I got butterflies and went home and stayed awake thinking about all the little, magical details associated with falling in love. When we got dressed up for dinners and spent hours trying to learn every single thing we could about each other. When everyday felt so dizzying and unreal.

But better than that is today. When we are exhausted, with spit-up in our hair and all over our clothes. When I have my hair pulled up in a disheveled (okay, who are we kidding ... MESSY)  bun with not one ounce of make-up on my face. When Baby Einstein is humming in the background and Kenzie’s high-pitched screams don't quite merry with Caleb’s loud and crazy rendition of "Twinkle Twinkle." When our dinners are hurried and chaotic and come from the microwave. When there are a million things to talk about but the best gift we can offer to one another is just a few golden minutes of silence.

This is love. Weathered and worn, and tried and true. It’s not always romantic. It’s not always pretty (note the messy bun and the not one ounce of makeup). But it’s faithful, lasting and never-ending. It’s friendship, loyalty and an everyday decision to love no matter what. And that’s pretty romantic and dizzying when you think about it.

I am a girl oh so full of all sorts of insecurities. And yet, Luke always manages to make feel secure. I don't know how he does it. He is the warmest blanket that always covers my heart. I feel cherished by him. I really do. And that’s no small feat.

I know there is nothing I could do to make Luke un-love me. And I know I’d never want to do anything that would ever nudge him in that direction.

So here we are. Running this race, doing this intricate dance of loving and forgiving and accepting and correcting and giving in and doing all of those things necessary in a marriage. We succeed a lot and fail a lot. We have had so much fun along the way.  And at six years, I’m happy to say that we’ve only just begun. I want at least 60 more with this man.

I wouldn’t trade a moment of our lives together. Not one single one. Because at the end of the day, the hard and the easy, the good and the bad - those times and moments and memories have all made me realize that I’ll never find myself alone, tossed around by the waves, struggling, grasping in black waters, reaching for someone to pull me out.

He will always jump in and save me.

Happy anniversary, best thing in my life. You have earned your title.