Twenty Years of Us

Tomorrow marks our 20-year wedding anniversary. Wow.

As I pause to take that in, I’m flooded with gratitude—for the warmth, the strength, the consideration, the playfulness, the support, the gentle challenge, the mutual accountability, the friendship, the passion, the protection, the witnessing, and the quiet beauty of raising a family together.

Looking back, I’m just as grateful for what got us here: the challenges that tested us, the ugly manifestations of our unhealed inner children, and the courage we both brought to the table to face the hurt we unconsciously and selfishly caused one another. It’s been difficult, yes—but profoundly transformative. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Things were, thankfully, more good than bad. That’s why we stayed committed. But when they were bad, they were heartbreaking. For a long time, it felt easier to blame his emotional immaturity and poor coping skills—to see myself as the victim of yet another reckless man.

But in the darkest moments, a benevolent presence within reminded me I was being guided—held in the arms of love and wisdom. That presence gently urged me to keep stepping forward in courage and faith, to let my words and actions invite the light of truth and grace over us both.

That truth and grace healed us.

I’m deeply grateful that he found the courage to stay, to do the hard work alongside me.

Today, I regard our marriage as the most valuable part of my life—not because it’s perfect, but because it’s something we built together, brick by brick, through seasons of both breaking and rebuilding. And I know I’m incredibly lucky.

I’m grateful for the stable home our children get to grow up in. I’m grateful for the laughter that fills our rooms and the quiet peace that meets us at night. It really does feel like I’ve won the lottery.

We say it often, and I believe it with my whole heart: We live such a charmed life.