Diary of a Wife: Part Two

It was a warm summer night in July when Evan told me he loved me for the first time. I remember staring into his eyes, knowing that I had loved him for weeks, maybe even months before that moment. I remember trying my very best to make it a picturesque, romantic, movie-quality moment, and I whispered into his ear, “I love you too.” I’ll never forget that. I loved that boy.

That boy was great. But I am way more in love with the man I’ve got now. (And that definitely is not a jab at his manhood then, but I think Evan would agree that he’s only gotten better with age. Plus, we were eighteen. Facial hair has done you good, Ev.)

Time changes most things, sometimes in ways we don’t always expect. Marrying Evan, at the time, did not include the title of Supporter of a One-Man Design Studio. At least I didn’t realize that. I didn’t know that I would be marrying a man who would eventually jump off a dream cliff and hope God would help him to fly. But I did. And really, it’s one of my favorite parts about this guy.

Being a wife to a freelance graphic designer means I get to watch him learn to fly. It means being on the sidelines as the wind lifts him higher. It means smiling into the sun as I watch him go. It means loving my husband as his dreams become our dreams. It’s believing that God is able because He says He is.

It isn’t easy. Some days we bicker over stupid things, like how he said one sentence in that tone that makes me feel like he doesn’t like me. But most times he loves me more than ever, he just gets frustrated. Some days we miscommunicate horribly. Some days we hardly spend time together because Evan is in his office most of the day working. But that isn’t everyday.

Most days are the best days. Most days we put the boys to bed at 8 PM and sit together on the couch and watch too much Netflix. Most days we laugh together about stupid jokes. Most days I watch from afar as the boy who told me he loved me that warm night in July loves my sons. I never tire of that.

Marriage doesn’t mean sidelining dreams, putting on hold the things we want, or giving up what we love. It means doing life together, thus bringing out the best in each other. And on the hard days, the days when I feel like giving up or I’m doubtful, we have each other. Evan is my reminder that the best is yet to come. Being his wife has only gotten sweeter with time, and as each day passes, the adventure only gets grander.

The best is yet to come. Cheering from the sidelines, looking up at the sun as we watch each other fly…there’s nothing better than this.

To read my first entry in the Diary of a Wife series, go here.