Today is my husband, Matt and I’s 12 year anniversary. 12 years seems like a life time but also like a fleeting moment at the same time.

Like any marriage, we’ve had ups and downs, highs and lows. We’ve experienced life’s greatest miracles x 4, the birth of our 4 daughters. We’ve also experienced life’s gut-punches, deaths of loved ones, leaving us in a cloud of grief. We’ve matured. Changed. Fought. Gained extra pounds. Lost some. Then gained some more. We’ve moved across state lines. We’ve started businesses. Bought houses that have turned into homes. Sent girls off to their first days of schools. Challenged one another. Brought out the best and worst in one another at times. Competed. We’ve ate lots of pizza and cheeseburgers together. Rocked with one another on our front porch. Rocked our 4 babies to sleep. We’ve played golf. Basketball. Tennis. Gone on trips. Grown in our faith. We’ve become more selfless and have realized this whole parenting gig is not for the faint of hearts. We’ve worried. Cried. Hugged. Rejoiced. Pushed buttons. We’ve grown. We’ve drank coffee together. Prayed together. We’ve coached. We’ve listened. And we’ve loved.

Love is a choice. The first few years of dating, getting engaged and then married was a whirlwind. In those years, love was a feeling. A, “I can’t live without you, encompassing, tremendous feeling.” I still get the feelings of being in love with Matt, as he does me. But when the newness wears off, the years go on and life’s inconveniences and challenges and beauty all mix together… love becomes a choice.

Marriage is hard. It is work. It is compromise and communication. Love is a whole lot of forgiveness and a whole lot of grace and plenty of selflessness. Anyone who tells you different is lying. I’ve cringed countless times when I’ve heard others say, “marriage shouldn’t be this much work.” Oh, but it should. And it is.

Love looks a little different these days than 12 years ago. Love is always making the pot of coffee in the morning. Love is letting me take a 3 1/2 hour nap while he gives baths and feeds 4 little girls supper. Love is listening to me go on about my crazy dreams. And likewise. Love is letting me paint and decorate the house to my heart’s desires. Love is taking me out to dinner. Love is finding a babysitter. Love is holding my hand. Love is allowing the large red KC Chiefs sign that doesn’t go with my decor. Love is putting the toilet seat down. Love is taking care of me when I’m sick. Putting your glass in the sink. Love is going to 5 different gas stations at 11:00 at night to buy me Benadryl for a bad allergic reaction to lash extensions. Love is cleaning up the throw up because the other person cannot stomach it. Love is bringing home pizza on a week full of strep throat. Love is doing the dishes. Love is allowing one another to do things that bring us joy- lifting weights and volleyball. Love is letting the other have a night out with friends. Putting another person’s needs and desires above your own. Something we’re still working on.

Marriage is a covenant, made in front of God, not to be taken lightly. Loving your spouse, who is an imperfect, messy, sinful being; is a beautiful way to serve God. God loves us in our mess and we should do the same. It’s messy and soul searching and frustrating and confusing and wonderful and beautiful all at the same time. It is work. But one of life’s greatest works if you ask me.

Happy 12 years Matt. May we always choose one another. May we always keep that competitive spirit that makes life more fun. And may I always continue to beat you at horse.

Love, Kaybabe