Seven years ago I married my handsome husband on the Lake Tahoe beach.
It was the perfect day. The sun was shining. Not a cloud in sight. No wind at all. 70s.
We couldn’t ask for anything better.
We had each other and nothing but big dreams in front of us.
Fast-forward to this year.
We happened to be in Lake Tahoe again with our billions of children (I mean two – the yelling and running sometimes seems like more).
As we drove by the small street that led to our ceremony site I asked my husband if he wanted to check it out. I was so excited when he said yes!
We turned down the street as I started telling the boys our love story.
From the inside of the truck it looked beautiful outside. Plenty of sunshine to go around.
Just like our wedding day.
My husband parked the truck and we hopped out.
It was nothing like our wedding day.
The wind blew like crazy. It was freezing. It was miserable. To make matters worse, the gate to our ceremony site was locked. We had to walk around to a different part of the beach and sneak through to the site.
When we got there my husband held up the camera – my hair was all over the place, one boy was screaming, the other crying.
The chaos turned into a picture I love more than any other.
It’s the perfect definition of marriage.
When we got married it was perfect. Right? All we could think of was the better, the richer, the health – the joy we had that day.
How would it not last forever?
But then life happened.
The wind blew, the cold temperatures set in, we’ve been locked out.
Just how I trudged through sand in flip flops, against the wind, carrying our 30-pound toddler – we’ve trudged through the challenges, the fights, the past-due bills, the all-nighters with screaming babies.
Just like the yelling, crying and misery as we walked back to the place we exchanged vows – We’ve yelled. We’ve cried. We’ve been downright miserable.
But when we got to our ceremony site, despite the wind, despite how cold I was, and the back-arching baby in my arms – my heart was full.
Something about that place. That place with the life we’ve built.
Something about the promises we made there. And making good on that – with a home, a family, our boys.
Something about how dang hard it’s been, but still reaching the finish line.
Through worse, poorer, sickness – we make it, on a daily basis.
Just like we did on this day.