Twenty-five years ago today I walked down the aisle clutching my father's arm.
I had no business pledging my life-long love to the man who waited in the white tux at the end of that long aisle.
But that's what we do, isn't it? Marry when we have no idea what marriage means, make a baby when we don't realize that babies grow into teenagers.
If I had waited until I had a clue, fear would have eventually paralyzed me and I would have missed out on the waltz of my life.
Rob is my soul mate. But for so long we tried to poison each other and nearly succeeded. For some reason God intervened and held us together when all we wanted was to tear each other apart.
Thank you, God. Without Your glue my life would be tones of gray. The music of the soundtrack of my life without Rob would be elevator stylings at best.
Rob, today I tell the world (or my faithful and/or random readers) that I'd do it all over again. Wet behind the ears idealism has grown into a gut love. I promise to love you, honor you, respect you and forsaking all others pledge my life, my heart, my soul, my prayers to you until I take my last breath or hear the trumpet sound in the clouds.
If the trumpet sounds first, I hope we are close enough to grasp hands and take the wild ride together. If one of us breathes our last, I will treasure the memories we've made and the eternity we still have before us.
I am so glad I married you. I love you with all that I am, and so much more than when I walked toward you 25 years ago with my heart outstretched looking for the fulfillment of the promise of what God has delivered.
