Joy. Happiness. Love.

Monday, Jesse and I celebrated 7 years of marriage. 7 years. Wow. Neither of us are big into extravagant gifts, but we do like to set aside some time to spend together. My sister came and watched the kiddos, and we went to dinner at one of the nice restaurants in town.

I told him to watch out, because I was dressing up and was going to knock his socks off...haha. (Umm, yeah pretty much anything other than workout shorts, an old t-shirt, and my hair in ponytail counts as "dressing up" these days.) I really did want to make him feel like I dressed up, according to his taste, to look nice just for him. So, I went and got a new dress, and the look on his face when he saw the finished product was priceless. Let's just say I achieved my goal. My hubby was happy. :)
And we found ourselves giggling at each other and being flirty all night. It's amazing what a pair of black high heels can bring out in a woman!

We enjoyed a long, slow dinner, savoring every course, sipping our wine, and having really good conversation. We talked about where we have been. Where we have come. What was good in the middle...and what wasn't so good... regrets, things we would change, and happy memories we wouldn't change for anything! We laughed together. We held hands. We played footsie under the fresh table cloth. It was a sweet night. One that we both desperately needed.

And as we walked out, hand in hand, headed back home to the kids...to the jobs...to the never ending chores...I was sad. I knew that sweet feeling of happiness in my heart was about to end. And yet, when we walked in the door of our home, to Ryleigh squealing in delight and Jesse beaming as she jumped in his arms, I realized, I wasn't sad. I was still happy! I still had an immense and overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for the man God gave me to spend my life with.

I'm a dreamer. I don't know if you know that about me. No, not in the sense that I live in fantasy land...I think I'm a realist, to a fault most of the time. But I dream. At night. All the time. Normally, I think Satan uses this time to plant seeds of discontentment and feelings of worry into my mind and heart. Often in my dreams, I am fighting against Jesse. Whether I'm hurt or angry, in my dreams, I typically lay into him in ways I would never do in real life. Lately though, several of my dreams have consisted of someone or something trying to take Jesse away from me. And I find myself constantly fighting for Jesse. Struggling sincerely over the thought of losing the single most important person in my life. And on the mornings I wake up after those dreams, you better believe I hold my man a little tighter!!

I always want to be on Jesse's team. I want to always be by his side, fighting for him...fighting for us. Because despite his flaws (I know, shocker, right?), God help me, I'm head over heels for that man. I love him with a deep devotion and a love that I cannot put into words. He still can give me butterflies and bring out the giggly school-girl in me, and I pray that never changes. I'm still overwhelmingly proud to walk into a room hand-in-hand with him. I still thank God that Jesse is MINE until death do us part. And more than that, I pray that I am loving him well. That I'm his best friend and biggest supporter. That I can still make his heart race with a certain wink and smile. That I'm his favorite person in the world to hang out with.

Because at the end of the day...at the end of the year...at the end of this season...at the end of this life... we were meant to be together. And we will be together. And I just pray that the joy remains throughout the trials.

When I think of joy between Jesse and I, naturally no day burns brighter than our wedding day 7 years ago. I was 20, he was 22. Two nervous kids with no idea what the future held, other than each other. And when I say scared, I'm not joking around. I was a nervous wreck all day long. I was absolutely terrified standing behind the big doors of the church. My dad jokes that he had to pull me through the doors to get me to start walking. I was scared.

But then I saw him. And he was smiling. Right at me. His eyes never left mine throughout the entire ceremony, reassuring me over and over that he was right by my side. After the ceremony was over, and we were officially husband and wife, the pressure immediately subsided, and we were both filled with nothing other than JOY.

I scanned a couple pictures from our wedding album (no, we did not have digital photos, so these are the best I got...bear with the blurriness!) to show you what I mean. Joy like this cannot be described in words, but it also cannot be missed in photos!

Pure happiness. Now, scroll back up to the top. The pictures of us taken Monday night before dinner. Do you see it? It's still there. Joy. Happiness. Love.