Top Ten of 2019

“Love will expand your horizons in ways you can't even imagine” (Shauna Niequist, Savor, p. 387).

(My top nine over from Instagram)

And here's the top ten posts from year 2019, arguably one of the best and most beautiful, yet hardest, and most life-changing years of my life:

God-Things and Dreams 
Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Love 
Real Talk Marriage: One Month In 
Dear Daddy, I Still Love You 
What Cutting My Hair Taught Me About Belonging to Myself 
How We Had a Low Stress Wedding 
My First 10K 
Birthdays (Why and How to Celebrate) 
Our Most Used Kitchen Products (So Far) 
Wedding Day 

May God get the glory as I continue to write about life, love, marriage, and other stuff.

Here's to 2020!

I'm Not Jealous, Or Am I?

Our devotional recently was about contentment. It talked about being thankful to, for, and towards your spouse instead of comparing. At the end, discussion questions asked each spouse to confess areas of jealousy and pray over them. I didn’t really have any, but then I did.
I’m super thankful for my husband and often find myself thanking God I’m married to him. But I’ve also struggled. I’ve really struggled. I’ve thought we should have things all figured out. I thought we’d communicate better. I thought this would be easier. And it isn’t. And I’ve realized I am envious and jealous.
I didn’t have expectations that I knew of coming into our marriage. But I did have ideals. As a marriage and family therapist, I’ve seen plenty of couples fight. I’ve seen plenty of people I love struggle and disagree. I knew marriage would grow me, but I guess I just thought I was somehow above the hard, or could do better than the hard. So I’ve been envying the ideal of a pain-free marriage. I’ve been jealous for the comfort of coasting a little in our relationship. I’ve been wanting something I didn’t have, a relationship I think I could or should have, but don’t.
As I shared my envious confessions with my husband, he reminded me that marriage is a process. It’s about sanctification. It’s about growth. And we’ll never arrive. He’s okay with the pain because he sees it as normative and productive, even. And he said that as long as we’re both seeking the Lord, we’ll be okay.
As I listened, I felt in my heart that he was right (and he usually is). But I still had to confess and get right with the Lord about my envy for what isn’t. I’ve realized the need for repentance several times since and had to start the process over. Being present and finding joy in the pain is hard, really hard, but it’s better than the ugly green blights of jealousy. May God give me clear eyes and clear vision to see what He has for us now, and not just in the future. May I live and love in the present, not in or for the ideal. May God use this marriage to continually grow us to become more like Himself, until we do reach the ideal in heaven and the perfect marriage of Christ and His bride, the church.

Afghan 58: Better Late Than Never!

Yes, it's been over a year, but I finally finished another afghan. Just a few life things have happened since a year ago, and I've also continued to battle dystonia. But by God's grace, and with His help, I finished this one:

This blanket was a very special one, for my niece born earlier this year. The pattern was the easy mesh stitch (wide crochet variety) from Mama in a Stitch, and the yarn was Mainstays soft pink (bought at Wal-Mart). 

I intended this to be a fast work pattern, but it turned out to be slow, resulting in a final size of only about 30 x 32 inches. I struggles to keep the edges even, too, so I had to do some patch work. I ended up creating a scalloped edge (chain 6 and single crochet) to cover that. But oh well. It's done, made with love and gifted to my niece for Christmas. I hope she enjoys it as her years progress.

Tell me. Have you crocheted a mesh stitch before? If so, how did it go? Please comment below.

Last Christmas, I Gave You My Heart

Christmas time last year was a season of intense wrestling for me. We started dating shortly before Thanksgiving came around, and then came all the Christmas festivities. What did we do? How did we do it? What were our boundaries? Who knew and didn't know that we'd started dating? How did we respond to the onlookers? There were so many questions! And yet the question in my heart was, "Do I love this man?"

I'd had the fleeting conviction at some point, "If you loved him, you'd do..." I pushed the thought out of my mind, thinking I couldn't possible love someone after only a few weeks of dating. But the thought kept returning. I, in my chronic anxiousness, searched for and read every article (anecdotal blog, research study, relationship column) etc. about when to say, "I love you." They pretty much all said it was too soon. And yet I felt it. And the love only grew the more time I spent with him. After the wedding of some friends last December 15th, I journaled:

I expected falling in love to be a little more sparky, a little more overwhelming, a little more...uncomfortable, I guess. But it's not. Rather, it's a deep seated settledness that this is the right person for me at this time of my life. It's a feeling of safety and security and an ability to be myself and be accepted. It's seeing other attractive people and deciding my history with this person is not worth throwing away. It's having a person in my life who I legitimately want to spend time with, and could see spending the rest of my life with. It's always wanting to learn more about this person. It's knowing this person isn't perfect and having the ability to accept it. It's believing that this relationship is worth giving up my life to make a new life with another person. It's respect and admiration and acceptance. It's confronting hard issues because this relationship matters.

But falling in love is also fun and having warm fuzzies and sharing activities. It's inviting each other into one another's lives. It's compliments and teasing and silliness. It's shared dreams and aspirations. It's finding out about each other's likes and dislikes and deal breakers. It's a commitment to go deeper and see what else lies there.

Falling in love is a little scary, and for me, happened a little quicker than I would have thought. And it happened without much of a conscious decision on my part. But it's where God has me, and I will follow Him into it.

Note I didn't write my to-be husband's name anywhere in this entry. I really didn't know if this relationship would last. And yet I knew if I wanted to walk in faith, I needed to tell Chris how I felt. The question was, "How?"

I sat on my feelings for several week, and eventually decided I wouldn't get the words, "I love you," out of my mouth quickly, so I'd better write them. So one day after church, I sat down with a pen and paper and wrote a letter. I agonized over it. I tried to explain what love meant to me. I tried to explain that I wasn't trying to force Chris into something he wasn't ready for. I tried not to have expectations, but in the end, I wrote the words, "I love you." Then I sealed up the letter and put it someplace safe. I decided to give the letter to Chris on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve 2018, I felt anxious. I felt nauseous. We had a big Christmas Eve party to attend, and the thought of so many people together at one time made me nervous. Add to that the fact that most hadn't seen me with Chris before. But then the letter. I thought about not giving it to Chris. But then I knew I'd just be sitting on my feelings for longer. And they were painful enough already.

So Christmas Eve 2018, after the party and after Chris came over and opened our one traditional family gift, I walked outside with him and thrust the envelope into his hands. "Read this when you get home," I said.  And he left.

As he drove away, I felt relief, and yet fear. I'd just given my heart away on paper, and I had no idea how Chris would respond, or if he'd even read the letter. But I also knew I'd done what I had to do, and I had to leave it at that. 

I promised myself I wouldn't ask about the letter after I'd given it. I promised myself to just enjoy the next day when Chris came over to spend Christmas with my family. I promised myself I would let him bring it up if and when he wanted. No one knew about the letter, not my parents or my friends, or anyone. It was just me and Chris, if Chris had read the letter.

Time elapsed and things felt a bit awkward at points, but I kept my promise to myself. At some point, Chris and I went for a walk, leaving my parents behind. We walked silently almost the whole way, and then right before my house, on the downhill, he touched my arm.

"Stop for a minute." He said. "I read your letter. And I love you, too."

I don't remember what happened after that. Maybe I just stood there in shock. Maybe we talked more. Maybe we hugged. Whatever the case, we eventually continued walking and made it back to my parents' house. We didn't say anything about our exchange to my parents, either, but I felt lighter. So much lighter. God continued to write our story, and as you've seen if you've read this blog long, we married this past June.

That's my love story for Christmas. But it is in light of the God gave the greatest gift of love in His Son Jesus, born on Christmas Day. It is because of Him that we ultimately celebrate and love and say to all,

"Merry Christmas!"

I'm Grateful for My Tribe.

It's been a whirlwind of a life lately: The Grand Canyon, moving, Thanksgiving, looking for a new job, commuting for work, and overall just trying to get used to the new "normal." Along the way, I've had so many texts, e-mails, and calls, some from people I consider myself close to, and others that I didn't know cared. Even as my own faith has faltered, I have been so ENCOURAGED.

So if you've written, called, talked, or texted me lately. Thank you. If you've prayed, thank you. If you've thought of us, or helped us in our process, or provided material goods, thank you. It takes a village. It takes a tribe, and I'm grateful for mine...family, friends, and overall, just those that care.

TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

Iconic Seattle

We visited family in Washington over the holidays, and one day my husband took me to Seattle, to see the city, but also so I could take pictures at the iconic sites. Here's where we visited:

The Gum Wall

Yucky, but cool. The name says it all....

Pikes's Place Market

An iconic farmer's market with fresh apples, fresh and dried flowers, local fish, and all sorts of specialty shops. 

Pier 57/The Seattle Ferris Wheel

Puget sounds is beautiful, even on a cloudy day. Enough said.

The Original Starbuck's

No, we didn't go inside, but we got a picture outside. The restaurant was mobbed!

The Space Needle

At a cost of over $30 a person and my fear of heights, we didn't actually go up in it, but it was still a sight to behold. Plus, we walked through part of the Museum of Pop Culture on the way there.

If you've been to Seattle, where did you go? Are there any places we missed? Please comment below.

Real Life Marriage: Marriage Accelerates Growth

(Photo by Arris Affairs)

When several years ago, I felt God moving my heart towards marriage, I had no idea the growth that was in store. I felt God wanted to use marriage to grow me and sand off some rough edges, but I didn’t know how. Then I started hanging out with my husband. Even getting to the dating and engagement stages was a faith walk, requiring me to continually lay down my desires and trust the Lord. And then came marriage. Oh, marriage. Marriage is wonderful, but a whirlwind of change.

When we married, we said we’d change nothing for a year. We wanted to settle in. Settle into us. Settle into a routine. Finish up some work stuff. Spend time with my parents, who live locally. Invest in community with some other couples in our age range. Just be.

But then came the stress. And the growing pains, and for me the tears. And then came the talks about what could change, about what needed to change. And we decided we’d move so that my husband could go back to school and eventually, either both of us would have 9-5 jobs, or I could work a little less.

Yeah, that plan worked out well. We decided to look for houses and out of seven or so properties, found one we liked. It had three offers on it, but our real estate agent said to throw another one on top. And so we did. And the house became ours.

That accelerated our plan and our growth. We had a ton more to talk about despite having what seemed like less time. Evenings were spent reviewing and signing legal paperwork, trying to decide who did what and if this risk was really what God had for us. There was a lot of prayer and trusting and asking God to open and close doors as He saw fit. We had lots of snags along the way, but the doors stayed wide open.

So in less than six months, I’ve changed my relationship status, my last name, my home (times two), and soon, my job. It hasn’t been easy. When I felt God say He wanted to grow me, I had no idea just how much.

God has been growing me in the area of anger. I didn’t used to think of myself as an angry person, but now I find myself angry quite often. And it’s not because my husband’s a bad guy. It’s because I’m scared or lonely or upset or feel unsafe. So much has changed that I often feel I don’t know myself anymore and that’s upsetting. God has been teaching me to pray before speaking, and to let the Holy Spirit search my heart. Because most of the time whatever made me angry is not something intentional. Most of the time it’s a personality difference, and that’s growing.

God has been growing me in the area of service. Sometimes I feel all lovey-dovey and want to serve my husband. And lots of times, I don’t. I want him to serve me. Or I want to be lazy. But I signed up for this and my role as a wife is support staff. Before God, my duty is to love and serve, whether or not my actions are reciprocated. I’m responsible before God for my own heart and my own actions. He’s responsible to God for both of us, and that’s a scary thing. I don’t want to be purposefully engaging in sin that he’ll also have to account for.

God has been growing me in the area of identity. Before, there was just me. Now there is us. That factors into all my decisions, or should. This is hard for me. It’s hard to make decisions in light of us, especially because I haven’t lived with my husband long enough to know his preferences (not that I’ll ever figure him out completely). Sometimes I want to make decisions with him, and don’t know how. And sometimes I have needs and don’t know how to communicate them in ways that are selfless and not selfish. And yet God has taught me enough about myself to know that I have to prioritize things like sleep and exercise. How that looks for us can vary by the day.

God has been growing me in the areas of safety and security. It was hard enough leaving my parents, not realizing how much I relied on them for support. And then we moved and my home was in a state of disaster. Unlike when I moved in with my husband after we got married, there was nothing in the house and nothing familiar. The city is new. The stores are new. I’m scared. There’s no place to hide except in God, and in my husband. And my husband has to be a far second to the Lord because our marriage will really go wonky if God is not in first place.

God has been growing me in the area of adventure. I’ve always said I wanted adventure and wanted to view life that way (hence my @myarizonaadventure Instagram handle), but I had no idea just how much adventure there would be. My husband is a Meyers-Briggs “P” personality, so there’s rarely a plan for our lives. I’ve had to give up routine and have some forced flexibility to be with the man I love. But there’s been some beautiful and amazing memories in the midst of that, and for that, I am thankful.

I could go on and on, but for now, this post has grown long enough. Suffice it to say, the changes in my life lately have been nuclear. But I think that’s what God had in mind when he got me into this marriage thing. And I know His growth in me and for me isn’t finished yet. To Him be the glory!

Grand Canyon: The Trip of a Lifetime

I wanted to hike the Grand Canyon this year, but after getting married and going on our honeymoon, I figured another big hiking trip was out of the question. But then our friends asked us to go in a three day, two-night excursion, staying at the lodge in the bottom for two nights, and we couldn’t say, “No.” Getting time off work and gathering supplies in the midst of packing for a move took some finagling, but God made a way. Praise Him!

Day 1, we got up at 5 am and headed out the door by 6 to meet our friends at 6:30. We drove two and a half hours to Supai, getting stopped for a security check on the way. (The reservation is dry, so no alcohol in or out.) After dropping off our gear and the guys parking the cars in Timbuktu, we made a quick bathroom stop and started the hike in. The first one to two miles was downhill. And then there were six more before the village on the flat. To be honest, the views weren’t great to start with, but got better as we walked on. Soaring red stone walls. Fall colors in the trees. And then the minty green of the mineral rich water.

We stopped a few times on the way in. There were no facilities, but we packed water, and there were bushes as needed. I started out in a windbreaker, ear warmer and gloves, but stripped down to my t-shirt as time wore on, the sun rise, and temperatures got warmer as we decreased our elevation. We made it in about three and a half hours. I only drank about 16 oz of water and ate half a peanut butter sandwich and some carrots, which probably wasn’t enough, but I made it.

We got to the lodge and, wow! I’d expected metal cots, stiff sheets, and scratchy blankets, but this was nice! They even had toiletries out for us and wireless internet! We took a short break and then trekked to Havasupai Falls.

The walk to the Falls wasn’t long, a mile or two, but it took awhile to get there because we kept stopping to take pictures. Even the “baby” falls on the way were beautiful! Of course, we had to stop and take lots of pictures at the actual falls. We planned to eat dinner at the village restaurant that night, but alas, it was closed, so Jet Boil and freeze-dried dinners, it was. Honestly, the food tasted so good. And the hot showers were amazing! We played a few games with friends and then I ate some more (like a LOT more), and went to bed.

Day 2, we were up-and-Adam early again, but didn’t start hiking until about 8:30 am. And then we basically didn’t stop hiking. We stopped briefly at Havasupai Falls to see them in daylight, but then went to Mooney Falls. Getting there was an adventure! The signs said to descend “at your own risk,” and man, was it risky, like slippery rocks, eely ladders, and letting yourself down by chains. But we made it!

And then we continued on to Beaver Falls. These were supposed to only be a few miles further, but if they were, those two miles took forever. There were three creek crossings, though (two of which I waded through, and one of which Chris carried me through because I was naive and didn’t wear a swimsuit and the crossing was waist high). The water was cold at those crossings! And then we had more ladders and rock climbing, though not as steep or dangerous or slick as Mooney. But by the time we got there, I was too cold and tired to get in. So I stood on the bank and ate my sandwich and watched while the other seven in our group played.

I wanted to get back, bad, so Chris went ahead with me and literally carried me through all three water crossings. (We talked about it later, and he saw that I was struggling and wanted to help.) I climbed up from Mooney Falls unassisted because I needed to use the bathroom and there was one at the campsite.

The others in our group opted for fry bread that night. Chris and I opted to Jet Boil again and take hot showers. I’m thankful we did. The others in our group got back after dark, and felt sickish the next day. And getting back early meant earlier to bed.

Day 3, I wanted to get up and go, especially since rain was forecasted, but others wanted to get out later. And we were sore from all the waterfall climbing. So out at 8 am and out of the Canyon by 11:30. The trek back was really not that hard to me. But we had overcast skies and cooler temperatures. Sun and heat would have made it a different story. I drank about 3/4 of my two liter Camelbak that time and snacked on some carrots. I basically climbed the whole way, with a few stops for pictures. The climb did not seem too bad, especially since we’d trained on Glassford Hill, with two mile ascents at higher altitude.

After another bathroom stop and a hike to the car, we headed for Seligman. Then it started raining. Man, were we glad to be out!

We stopped for a late lunch at Roadkill Cafe, wanting real food after all our snacks. I thought I wanted a burger, but settled on a Reuben instead. I think it was all the salt that made it taste good. I’m not normally a Reuben girl, but I ate the whole thing.

I was tired that evening, but not too bad. My main ailment was my left foot, on which the tendon on the bottom hurt. (Chris said it was probably due to hiking miles in our water shoes on Tuesday. That made sense.) But I was able to run the next day and made it through work. The trek really wasn’t as rough as I expected.

It’s hard to convey in words all that this trip was. It’s not often in life that you literally spend three days doing little more than walking and talking and eating and taking in the scenery. I’m thankful. So thankful. And I’m also thankful for the way God unknowingly prepared me for this with the half-marathon training, which taught me to eat and drink while I exercise (versus only before and after) and push further than I expected my body could go.

I’m thankful for the people I went with, not only their company, but also their pace (because I like to move). I’m thankful for my husband, who packed most of our stuff in, and packed me over those river crossings. I’m thankful for the lodge and it’s amenities. I’m thankful for the Jet Boil our friend loaned us and freeze dried food. I’m thankful that I did this with my husband instead of my family as I’d originally wanted, as he pushed me further than I’d have gone myself, and also helped me find courage I haven’t accessed when with my family. This trip was just amazing, and truly a blessing from God.

“Would you do this again?” My husband asked me on day one or two.
“The jury’s out,” I said.
Ask me now, and I’d say, “Yes, probably.” But I know no second or third trip will be as special as this one, with these people, at this time, seeing these places that I’d never seen before. Life’s been crazy, and this trip came at a crazy time, but it was a little once in a lifetime thing. To God be the glory!

The Condo that Could

We'd talked about moving, but weren't sure about a date. "Let's just look at condos," my husband said. So just like that, after we flew in from our trip to Arkansas, we looked at condos. We looked at several. The ones we'd had our eyes on were...terrible. But there was a new one that was nice. It already had offers on it, though.

"Let me just call to see what the offers are," our realtor said. "You could always make a backup."

My husband and I sat down with the information we had over lunch, I mean, linner, or lupper. All I'd had to eat that day was a Clif bar and an apple, and it was way past lunch time. My husband figured the new condo was the best one and wanted to offer on it. It admittedly wasn't my favorite, but why not? It could work. And it had the most to offer besides the actual dwelling space: a good location, access to the light rail, newer appliances, etc. And it had three offers already. It was doubtful they'd take ours.

So, in a hunger-crazed haze, I signed paperwork to bid. I didn't even look at the closing date. I just signed. And on Monday of that week, I came home to the news, "They accepted our offer."

"What?" I replied. 

"Yes, they accepted our offer. We're moving." He said.

I panicked. I tried to digest the news. I had signed the paperwork to try to buy this condo. I had agreed that it might be good for us to move. But I didn't realize it would be so soon.

And then came the fear. Fear the inspection would fail. Fear the loan wouldn't get approved. Fear the cost would be too great. Fear. Fear. Fear. My husband had faith; I struggled, to say the least. But the condo went through. We closed, despite having to go back to the table to adjust our offer after the appraisal, despite needs for extra income verification, despite two rounds of hours-long paperwork signing. We moved November 23rd.

The longer I live in the condo, the more I realize what a blessing it is, and how like it is to the house that wasn't. The light from the windows, the nice gray walls, the (faux) wood floors, the two bathrooms I wanted. The white kitchen, the porches. The house isn't perfect, but it's ours. The condo that could is becoming our home. We are so grateful to God.

The House That Wasn't

I'd offered on several houses, a lot of houses. Some owners didn't accept my offers. Some houses went to bidding wars. And some houses were sold by time time my realtor and I submitted our paperwork. I'd offered on this house and been declined, too. But then the owners came back. 

"Do you want the house?" They asked through my realtor.

"Well, yes." I replied.

"The other buys were nickel- and dime-ing us," I heard. "So you can have it."

So I started the process. I sent my $1,000 escrow money. I ordered the home inspection. I investigated home warranties and chose one. I went over what the house needed (because it did need some work) and lined up repairmen. We ordered the appraisal. It came back. I made Pinterest boards of what I planned to do with each house and each room. My best friend diagrammed the house and made plans to fly out and help me decorate. I got a roommate. Everything was going swimmingly...until it wasn't. 

On final walk through, mere days before the purchase, my dad crawled under the house one more time "just to make sure" and found water, like lots of water. Monsoon season (aka heavy rains) had just started, and apparently the rain was running under the house instead of around it. I didn't panic just yet, though. I started investigating. But as I investigated, my heart sank. I found out that not only was the runoff an issue, but the whole slope of the land. A repair would mean removing the landscaping in the front and back yards, removing the front and back porches, readjusting the lay of the land, re-landscaping, putting the porches back on, and then fixing the house foundation issues. Oh man!

A real estate investor friend of ours looked at the house and he said he wouldn't buy it if he was me. And he had experience with flipping houses. I was a first time homebuyer, with barely enough money to put for a down payment, and very little time to fix up a house. So I let the house go. I told my roommate, "No."

I was discouraged, distraught, even. I wanted this so bad. And it seemed God had opened all the doors only to slam them in my face. I didn't understand, and perhaps I never fully will.

As the years past that failed home purchase have passed, though, God has in His grace revealed some reasons why that sale didn't go through:

• I needed more time with my family to repair and heal some relationships.
• My job turned out to be way harder and way more time consuming than I expected, and I honestly needed my mom to feed me a lot of nights. Living at home allowed her to do that.
• My mom prayed that I wouldn't move out until I got married. (Thankfully she kept that prayer to herself until I got engaged.)
• My prospective roommate decided to follow the Lord to a different country, and without her help, mortgage payments would have been difficult.
• Living at home allowed me to save more money for a potential future home purchase.
• Not owning a home made it easier to marry and move in with my husband (in that order!) and consider what God had for us versus for me.

God knows what He's doing, friends. Following the Lord is hard, and it often doesn't make sense. But God is good, and His plans work out for our good, even if it does not feel good in the moment, or maybe on this earth. My dream house wasn't. That was hard. But it allowed God to bring to fruition some other dreams, dreams I'd buried or even let go unrecognized. To Him be the glory.

Why We Chose Covenant Marriage

An Arkansas co-worker first introduced me to the idea of covenant marriage. He was debating the pros and cons of it with another co-worker and when that coworker asked why covenant marriage, he strongly stated his case. 

"I'm marrying her," he said. "So I don't want out."

He argument got me thinking about covenant marriage, to the extent that I decided that no matter where I lived, I wanted to get married in Arkansas, one of the few states I knew that I had covenant marriage. I wanted a committed marriage that I couldn't get out of, because that's what I believed marriage should be.

Fast forward many years to engagement. I'd pretty much given up on all my ideals about my wedding (other than that it needed to be Christ-centered, and our relationship was) because I just wanted to marry the guy! But then I went to the website for our county court, and to my surprise, found that Arizona had covenant marriage. I knew what I thought about it, but wanted his opinion. So I printed out the brochure and handed it to him, asking him to tell me what he thought.

"Well what do you think?" He asked.

"I want your opinion," I replied.

"I already know what you think," He said, with a smile.

And that was pretty much it. He read the information, but we decided upon, and carried out a covenant marriage.

So why did we choose covenant marriage? A lot of people asked that question. So here's our rationale:

First and foremost, we believe that marriage images Christ and the church. As Christ does not give up on the church, his bride, so we also should not give up on each other. We wanted our ceremony, and our ongoing marriage to testify to this. Secondly, we believe that marriage is forever. A covenant marriage does not change that. It just confirms what we already believe. Third, although we believe that Christ is the initiator and sustainer of marriage, we want the state to know what we believe about marriage, and getting a covenant marriage license is one way to do that. Finally, if we ever did consider divorce, covenant marriage would force us to have a waiting period and potential counseling so that we would have time to really reflect on making such a serious decision.

We solemnly declare that marriage is a covenant between a man and a woman who agree to live together as husband and wife for as long as they both live. We have chosen each other carefully and have received premarital counseling on the nature, purposes and responsibilities of marriage. We understand that a covenant marriage is for life. If we experience marital difficulties, we commit ourselves to take all reasonable efforts to preserve our marriage, including marital counseling.

With full knowledge of what this commitment means, we do declare that our marriage will be bound by Arizona law on covenant marriages and we promise to love, honor and care for one another as husband and wife for the rest of our lives.

This is the statement we signed in order to get our marriage license, and by proxy, what we committed to on our wedding day. We laughed as we signed at the courthouse, not because we took our responsibility lightly, but because we couldn't think of any other definition we'd sign our lives to than this.

Why covenant marriage? In a word, God. And what does covenant marriage mean to us? Forever, for as long as we both shall live.

To God be the glory.