22 Years and Counting

Our first ceremony

Our second ceremony

Our third ceremony

Seeing a play at the TPAC

22 years ago, my husband, Chris, and I got married for all of the wrong reasons.

We met at the beginning of my sophomore and Chris’ senior year in high school. He was a cute and lanky JROTC (Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps) drill team leader with lots of hormones and a sweet smile. I was a pretty, confused, and equally hormonal new student at our high school. It took a couple months for him to notice me, although I was smitten the first time I saw him. We started going steady and a few months later I got pregnant with our first child. It took almost 2 more years for us to finally get married. I walked down the aisle wanting a father for my child, a knight in shining armor, and a fairy tale, happily ever after, marriage. He wanted to be a part of our daughter’s life and to fix the mistake of getting me pregnant.

Our marriage was a big mess from the beginning. We were both running from God and our religious backgrounds. We had dysfunctional family baggage, and we had no idea how to raise our child. Chris was struggling with not-yet diagnosed PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) symptoms and completely detached emotionally. I had major abandonment issues and was struggling with depression. Our home was a war zone. When Chris would come home from work, we would either avoid each other or start fighting. We didn’t talk about a hopeful future together, but we often talked about divorce. This pattern continued for 7 years.

Then one day, my neighbor took me to get a same-day medical procedure, and afterwards we stopped at a coffee shop for a cup of coffee. I was half-drugged, Chris was away at an Army training exercise, and our kids were at a babysitter, so I was in no rush to get home. Neither of us knew that the coffee shop was also a church. I was so emotionally wrecked that, within a few minutes of being there, I started telling the pastor my life story. Before I knew it, my self-preserving walls started to crack, and I was opening my heart. I started attending that church and Chris quickly followed.

Church did not magically fix our marital chaos, but it did begin to open both of our hearts to God and each other. After attending church for a little over a year, we realized that we had not initially invited God into our marriage. So, on June 1, 2002, we decided to renew our marriage vows to include God. I am so thankful for that day. It was a tipping point in the right direction.

After our ceremony, we both had tremendous brokenness to work through. We realized that I kept dragging up our past as a weapon against myself and Chris, while he kept trying to avoid facing it. God started showing me that his forgiveness covered my sins, so I needed to give the same forgiveness to my husband. I realized that Chris was not my enemy and started asking God to show me how to love my husband. It took several years of turning to God to deal with our individual pain, which included enduring 4 over-1-year deployments and facing addiction issues, before we both started learning how to love unconditionally and to extend true forgiveness.

On August 26,2011, after 17 years of marriage, we decided to renew our vows one more time. The first wedding was 2 young adults marrying without God in the center of the relationship. The second ceremony was 2 broken people adding God to their marriage. The third ceremony was 2 committed people promising to love and serve one another, fully aware of their need for God, realizing their spouse’s imperfections, and knowing that marriage is not a fairy tale. Just think, it only took 3 ceremonies to get married for the right reasons.

Today, we are celebrating our 22nd anniversary, and I can truthfully say that I love Chris more with every day. He is more handsome now than the first day I saw him. He is my friend, protector, lover, confidant, partner, and hero. I respect the man he is becoming, and I choose to love him, even on the not-so-good days. I honor the man who wakes up every day to face physical, emotional, and spiritual struggles head on, rather than running away from them. I love his refusal to quit, even when everything inside of him wants to give up. I am thankful that he wakes up each day and gives his life for his family. Most of all, I am thankful for his continued pursuit of God.

Our future looks promising.