Fifteen Years

I didn’t grow up dreaming of marriage. I grew up dreaming of influence and stability. A checking account that never dipped into the single digits. I was the girl who worked since childhood, moved out immediately after high school, and wore self‑sufficiency like armor. Spiritually, though? I was basically a toddler with a juice box.

My husband, meanwhile, had been a Christian most of his life but was only just stepping into manhood when we met. His path was slower, steadier, and significantly more supervised. He went from his mom’s house to the dorms and back again, and only recently had he moved into an apartment with a college friend. He didn’t get his first job until after college, became a teacher, hated it, and started temping. In other words: he was becoming a man at the same time I was becoming a believer.

We were, in our own ways, both beginners.

And yet — somehow — God crossed our paths at exactly the right moment.

When we started dating, he told me he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, he was looking for a wife. Normally that kind of statement would chase off a girl like me, but there was something about how he said it, the complete and utter lack of romance that accompanied the statement, that made me think what he was saying was important and I didn’t actually understand it at all. I had never wanted marriage or children. I wanted the boss‑babe life, the “I don’t need anyone” life, the life where I was the CEO of everything including my own emotions. What was this guy even talking about?

Right before I met him, I had prayed the most honest prayer of my life: God, I have no idea what I’m doing. Please take the lead.

It wasn’t a tearful plea after a bad date, but a serious confession after realizing that nearly ten years of calling all my own shots had not landed me where I thought I’d be. It wasn’t a lack of effort or discipline — just completely misaligned priorities, and I had no idea how to fix that. So, I gave up. I surrendered.

Just a short time later, God introduced me to a young man practically radiating with wisdom, slightly undercut by a Pokémon t‑shirt. It most definitely wasn't love at first sight, but I was immediately certain the moment I laid eyes on him that I would know him forever.

We dated for two years, and those two years were… refining. Not dramatic, not disastrous — just the slow, awkward work of two young adults unlearning old habits and growing into better ones. We both had rough edges. He sometimes defaulted to patterns that worked in the world he grew up in, and I was far too independent to play along. And in my independence, I was often more than demeaning.

But even then, he listened. He grew. I grew. We were babies, truly — two people being shaped by God and by each other, learning how to love without ego and lead without pride. 

And then, because we were young and optimistic and slightly delusional, we moved in together right before the wedding. Nothing reveals your sanctification level quite like discovering how another human loads a dishwasher.

But even in the chaos, I was certain: God had sent me this man. He was supposed to be my husband. I was terrified, but the question wasn’t whether or not this was the right guy. The question was whether I was willing to be obedient to God, even with so much uncertainty. He wasn't just sending me a partner; He was calling me to become a wife- this entirely new woman. A role I still didn't completely understand.

What still amazes me is how long we orbited each other before actually meeting. His best friend had a child with my sister. We were in the same circles for nearly a decade, and yet we never crossed paths until we were both ready. I don’t know what God was doing in those ten years, but I imagine Him watching us like two characters in a novel He was writing, thinking, “Not yet. Not yet. Okay… now.”

Fifteen years later, I can see the story so clearly.

I see the man he has become — steady, wise, faithful, quietly strong. I see the ways he has grown, the ways he has matured, the ways he has stepped into the calling God placed on him. And I see the ways I have grown under his leadership — not because he “fixed” me, but because he led with conviction, humility, and a willingness to be shaped by God himself.

I can draw a straight line from his faithfulness to my spiritual maturity.

I am thankful for him. Proud of him. Grateful for the life we’ve built- not the life I once imagined, but the life God authored. A life that has required surrender, trust, humor, and more sanctification than I originally budgeted for.

Tonight, at our anniversary dinner, I remembered those early conversations, the ones where he said things that startled me, exposed me, softened me. He doesn’t remember them, but I do. They were the moments God used to peel back the armor I had welded onto myself and say, “This is who you really are. And this is who you’re becoming.”

Fifteen years in, I’m still becoming.

He’s still becoming.

And somehow, by the grace of God, we’re becoming together.