I counted almost a dozen of them as I drove along the curvy, country road to my Pilates class in the early morning. Each one was totally different than the last. Slowing down so I could see them even better, it was tempting to stop. Some I don't think I'd ever seen before. A rainbow of color and shapes, their diversity was delightful.
A week or two ago they would have been mowed down.
Weeds. Threats. Annoyances.
But today they're wildflowers.
Jeff and I are celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary today.
Twenty-five years of pure joy, rapturous romance, and constant love and devotion. Not.
Our years have been riddled with joys and sorrows, romance and doldrums, devoted love and selfish hearts.
Beautiful days and lots of weeds. Threats. Annoyances.
But as I gathered up my weeds today, I was struck by the joy and purpose even in them. Weeds take faith. And they surprise.
The very things I have perceived to be the problems over our twenty-five years, have often proven to be the blessings. They're the things that have made us reach deeper, stretch farther, and find strength in brokenness and love in hurt. The things that have taught us the meaning of forgiveness and grace.
So today I'm celebrating great love, great grace, a great marriage, a GREAT man.