Well, for the first time since I started documenting our anniversaries on this blog, the post is late. But maybe that is a great summary to how this year has been for us, or at least, since having Ellie. Things can’t just happen quite as quickly as they used to. But I did want to document yet another year of married life, one that held for us the most significant life change to date. (and here’s where you can find Five….the other years are linked in that post)
And as I think back to our wedding day, one moment has risen to the surface again, and again as I replay the memories of that day. And it’s this one:
We very intentionally washed each other’s feet that day. We did it because Christ gave us that beautiful example of humility in Scripture. And we did it because we really wanted a humble heart of service to be central to our marriage. And sometimes we have really sucked at living this out. Like, a lot. But if there’s one thing that I have seen to be true again and again, it’s that even when we don’t want to serve each other, that’s when we need to do it the most. And when we do, something holy happens. Because it is in this service to each other that God is able to work in us and through us.
And so even though every fibre of my humanness at times screams I DON’T WANT TO, there is a knowledge that God, in his grace, gently brings me to my knees once more. And when I let Him (which, if I’m being honest, sometimes I don’t…and then I lose out), the beauty of marriage can really shine through.
And now we have a daughter. One who we very much want to set an example of love and servanthood to. And that is why, as I reflect on year six, I am so drawn to this part of that day.
So to Benjy,
Happy six years. Thank you for the ways you wash my feet daily. You outshine me so often in this area and although I’ve always known that, seeing you as a dad reminds of that even more. I still can’t think of a single person I’d rather do life with, and – although celebrating our anniversary isn’t about Ellie – it has to be said that there’s also no single person I’d rather do parenthood with either. You get on your knees daily for us (both literally – because I catch you praying sometimes, when you think I’m still upstairs getting ready) and figuratively, in the ways you serve me so selflessly. So thank you for year 6. This year that has brought us joy unspeakable, and trials we’d never known before. My hope and prayer as we do year 7 is that my knees become more calloused than yours.
I am one lucky woman, and I know that deeply.
I love you, I love you, I love you.