Where do I even begin?

The Rev. and I celebrate our 7th wedding anniversary today. Marriage. Holy Matrimony. Wedded Bliss.

I cannot believe it has been seven years. Seven years ago The Rev., wearing black cowboy boots, gently took my proffered arm from my father and guided me to the altar where I proceeded to interrupt his father during the exchange of our vows, much to the bemusement of the congregation. We keep the wedding video fast forwarded to that very moment and then we skip to the reception where my brother congratulates me on bringing the humor to the ceremony. Priceless, I know.

It would be so easy to look back on the past seven years and focus on the petty arguments:

"You don't listen to me."

"What?"

Or the discussions about potential moves in the ministry:

"I have a call to serve a congregation in Wisconsin."

"I'm not moving to Wisconsin."

"What if I said the Holy Spirit wants us in Wisconsin?"

"I hate it when you do that."

Or I could write buckets about the trials and challenges of being a pastor's wife, like when The Rev. left at 6:00 in the evening to make a visit and still wasn't home at 9:00 and wouldn't answer his cell phone and at midnight I called the police because I was CERTAIN he was dead in a ditch somewhere. And then, the policeman comes to the house and The Rev. arrives shortly after and I am SO MAD that the officer offers to stay so he won't get called back on a domestic disturbance call and then Rev. LAUGHS at me when I start to cry because I am so happy he is ALIVE and NOT dead in a ditch and he says, "I didn't know you cared that much." Um, HELLO? Why did I marry you in the first place?

No, it would be much too easy to focus on all the negatives. I think seven years is worth celebrating, especially in this day and age, when most of the weddings I have attended have ended in divorce and a friend once called and asked me if everything was okay in my marriage because the year Rev. and I got married she was in five other weddings and the couples were all in the middle of divorce proceedings. A scary percentage, indeed.

I can say a prayer of thanksgiving that the good has far outweighed the bad these past seven years, and that the Dear Lord has blessed us both in spite of pet sins that we all too often rub the other's face in. No, these past seven years have been good years:

--The Rev., after microsurgery on his vocal chords and six weeks of strict voice rest, delivered a beautiful sermon for his father's installation at a new church.
--Traveling together overseas, but also within the United States and realizing that we have so much more to see and we want to see all of it with each other.
--The numerous family meals that took place in the little parsonage on the interstate and even though both sides of our family were crammed in like sardines, we still enjoyed each other's fellowship, and the fried turkey.
--Bringing home our beagle puppy the day after Thanksgiving the first year we were married. She is still with us and is so closely interwoven in the fabric of our everyday existence we would be lost without her howl.

There is so much more for which I can be thankful, but most of all, I am thankful that I am married to a beautiful Christian man who takes to heart leading by serving. He makes me want to be a better person (although there are days I am sure he is confused) and I am so thankful that I can spend the rest of my life with him.

Happy Anniversary.