Six Years! *warning*... full of cheese :o)

I dated Justin for seven and a half years, and then we got married.  I hate that I can say that in one breath and it doesn't even come close to grasp the enormous weight of miserable agony that it caused me to not be married to my best friend until after I graduated college. (Me? Impatient?  Maybe just a tad.) There have been so many seasons in my life Justin has stood by my side.

He met me when I wore one of two colors everyday: navy blue or maroon.  Knee socks, sweater vest, collar at attention.  We had arguments about who loved each other more before we hung up the phone every night.  (We also argued about who would hang up the phone first.)  He called me "cutie pie."

He loved me from a few hundred miles away, my sweatshirts and jeans and toes of my shoes splattered in paint.  He called me his long distance girlfriend.

He asked me an important question and gave me a diamond to wear on my hand.  He finally...FINALLY called me his fiance.

He adored me when I walked down the aisle in the most beautiful white wedding gown I have ever seen.  He told me he would be with me all the days of his life.  I finally got to tell him "goodnight" and "good morning" all in the same day.  He called me his wife.

He helped me do my best as he worked by my side.  I wore skirts to the knee and artsy necklaces.   He called me his colleague and co-laborer in Christ.

He cried with me when our dreams were broken.  He let me wear his oversized sweatshirts with my tears wiped on the cuffs of the sleeves and tissues in the pockets.  He called me a mother even though my arms were empty.

He helped me choose my outfit the day we went to pick up our foster son from the hospital.  A brown shirt and blue jeans.  He told me I looked like a mom even when I didn't feel like one.    

He labored in prayer next to me as I wore a hospital gown.  He held our daughter and said she was beautiful because she looked like me.  He proudly called me the mother of his daughter.

He comes home to me everyday, my clothes covered in baby drool and rice cereal, my hair pulled back in a pony tail, wearing the same pair of jeans I wore the day before.  He tells me my job is harder than his and that he doesn't care how the house looks.  He cooks dinner and does the dishes because he knows I've had a hard day.  He calls me an amazing mother to Molly and Josiah.  He always tells me how much they love me.

There are precious moments when I feel like I look my worst on days when the kids never nap at the same time and the house is a disheveled wreck, and Justin looks at me like I'm back in my plaid skirt and he can't wait to hold my hand.  Or he hugs me like he hasn't seen me in weeks just like when I wore my art-major apron.  Sometimes he still looks at me in awe just like he did when I walked towards him with flowers in my hands.

I am honored to be loved by such an amazing man who has stood by my side for so many seasons of my life.  Today marks six years since he promised me that there would be many more seasons together and many many more clothes to wear.  :o)  Happy Anniversary, Justin!  I praise God for the blessing that you are to me and our children.  I love you so much!