the seven year itch.

Monday night we went out for sushi. Sushi is my new love language. 

Monday was Nick and I's seventh anniversary. 
Ya'll. If I don't write all lovey dovey schmupy about my husband on the blog often enough, it's because  I don't really have the words and I also don't want to sound braggy. But the truth is, I've landed on the very blessed end of a very sweet marriage. My husband is a hot, servant-hearted, gentle, forgiving, wise, amazing Dad, and did I mention hot? 

We've got our own issues. Most of them revolve around me being all the things he's not. 
Our marriage isn't perfect and we bicker and we're silly sometimes. 
But all in all, I couldn't be more thankful for what we have. 


I hear a lot of talk about the seven year itch. 
And I'll tell you the truth. I get it. 
All of a sudden, you find yourself STUCK. I think there is something about seven subsequent years of sharing a bed, sharing a roof, sharing your money, your time, your kids, your heart, your pain - that makes you start to realize, 

doesn't everyone try on their wedding dress seven years later? 

You don't have any money, he's there. 
You go through a health crisis, he's there. 
You gain/lose 50 pounds, he's there. 
You start something exciting, he's there. 
And you start to see - whatever comes, kids, blessings, trials, friends, opportunity, loss. 
They are all just the paint on the wall and he is furniture that is nailed down. 
Never leaving.

And I can imagine, that might feel like stuck. 
But I can promise you, it's the best kind of stuck feeling there is in the world. 
He's the closest physical representation I have of Christ and he mirrors Him so well. 
I am stuck with you, babe. 
And it sure doesn't itch.