On August 1, 1998 two naive kids committed to have and to hold, from this day forward. And Steve and I have been by each other's sides ever since. 

As a young lady I was easily distracted in my interests. But somehow this man has gotten a hold of my attention and hasn't let go. (I'm as surprised as you are!) Here we are, 19 years later, and I still daily anticipate Steve's his texts or calls, his handsome face, his arms around me, and him making me laugh. That's no exaggeration—I still want to be around him (pretty much) every day!

Maybe I enjoy Steve because he makes me better. Our conversations are challenging, encouraging, sometimes spirited. With him I feel more beautiful, more talented, and more confident than I truly am. God knew he's the motivation I'd need to try new things in life. In our marriage I've experienced new situations, new places, new perspectives, and I've taken risks I wouldn't have on my own. (Plus we have this amazing kiddo together who has been a bigger blessing than I could have anticipated. Not too shabby.)

All in all, I came out ahead these many years later. My heart is full, and my list of blessings is long. 

Happy anniversary, Steve. Love you.

Taken this past spring in Paris by our daughter—we forced her to commemorate a mushy moment.

The photo above is an homage to this one taken in 2005. On a trip to the Holy Land, our tour group swung by Paris for a brief stint on the way back to the U.S.

Sometimes everything works against you in the silliest of ways.

The batteries die, the sound gives annoying feedback, and the security alarm goes off during prayer. But when the Word of the Lord wants to get out, his message persists. 

This happened this past Sunday. Technology went awry, and distractions were aplenty. Yet I kept on teaching, praying for my own focus as well as the focus of others. And praying that I would share God's Scripture with power and truth—for that's what his Word is. 

It was especially worrisome because we had people visiting for the first time. I wanted them to feel welcome and at home at Echo Church and hear from the Bible, not be put off by interruptions. Yet perhaps the messiness simply shows that we are not in charge. It is not about our glory. God's Spirit moves through the beautiful and the broken. Surely he can move despite a microphone issue or two.

When we participate with him in sending out his Word, he promises to move through it. 

"As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it."

—Isaiah 55:10-11

Photo by Kane Reinholdtsen on Unsplash

There I found myself—sitting on a plane between a Catholic priest and a Protestant minister, each eagerly speaking over me to the other in a conversation spanning various facets of theology and their modern-day application. Since the minister in question was my husband, I was more tolerant of this intrusion upon my solitude. 

As Steve said, "We were one rabbi short of a joke there."

Steve and I were on our way to the NACC, a convention where people from the Restoration Movement (independent Christian churches and churches of Christ) gather from across the country to worship, encourage, and learn from one another. As we settled onto the plane, we watched people board and make their way down the aisle. One man about our age (who was a doppelgänger of Seth Rogan) happened to have on a priest collar and was making his way to our row. After some maneuvering and getting help from the flight attendant when his seat belt was jammed under the seat (she pulled up the seat cushion—those can be used as a flotation device!), the priest apologized for all the commotion next to me and introduced himself to the two of us. Steve admitted his ordained minister status in the exchange, and the priest's eyes lit up. There was not a moment of silence from that moment onward. I sat back and listened. 

The priest's enthusiasm was palpable as he asked Steve's Protestant perspective on various forms of religious thought and practice. He was also excited about his recent return from Rome, where he lived just outside of Vatican City. He is another year from full ordination. What a fascinating story he has—he had worked as a lawyer and was engaged to be married at age 27 when he felt called to leave it all to become a priest. Everything about his life changed. 

Devotion to God comes in many forms, and having grown up Protestant myself, I haven't interacted with many priests. This man's entire life and religious practices are different than my own. Yet his love of God was winsome and contagious. As unexpected as the situation was, and as over-my-head their conversation got at some points, I am thankful for the experience. It's yet another reminder I've had lately of how much more we have in common with people than we have differences. 

Photo of Notre Dame by my amazing husband, Steve Carr @2017