Bring your broken heart, and I will bring mine.

Two years ago, Buddy just six weeks old, growing inside of me, Katherine having just turned one, RB and I sat on the couch in our preacher's office. It was just weeks before Christmas and our 8th wedding anniversary. We sat with our backs to one another, our bodies as far apart as possible on the small couch. And as our preacher began to ask us why we were there and what was happening, I hesitated to speak. I was afraid of what would come out... would it be uncontrollable sobbing from months of feeling like we were broken? Would it be more anger and harsh words said only out of hurt and fear? Or, scariest of all, would it just be quiet resignation?

And before either of us spoke, I replayed our relationship in my head. The first carefree days of dating when life was all new experiences and social outings and the freedom only your early 20's can provide. The first years of our marriage when we were setting up house and building a life together and everything seemed to be centered around becoming "The Buchanans." Every time we had seen a positive line on a pregnancy test and felt those first few kicks and then held that precious soul on the day they were born. And all I could think was, "How did we get here? This wasn't supposed to be us. What happened?"

"What happened?" was the first question on all my girlfriends' lips. "What happened?" There was no scandalous story to share. No second family in a different state or Lifetime movie secret hidden past. There wasn't even name calling. What there was, though, was exhaustion. And grief. And over-packed schedules. There were weeks that we didn't get more than 25 hours of sleep total and didn't have time to say more than "Have the kids eaten?" to each other. There were work frustrations and extended family stress and hard pregnancies and a miscarriage. And worst of all, there was score keeping. So much score keeping.

Slowly but surely, it all festered. There would be happy days with the tension right under the surface of every smile and kind word. The hurt from the last fight carried into the most joyful of days. No matter how much sun tried to shine into our house, the clouds wouldn't part.

So there we found ourselves. Newly expecting. Worn down. Scared. As we left, our preacher told us it was our choice. We could fight and save our family or we could find ourselves spending Christmases apart for ever, our family fractured.

We drove home in silence, staring at the Christmas lights slowly piling up around the city. We went home to our warm house with our two precious girls and we played nice while we cooked dinner and did the bed time routine. And then we started fighting. But for the first time in a year, we were fighting for each other and not against each other.

We slowed down and paused when tempers flared. We said we were sorry more and used sarcasm less. We put ourselves first for the first time in years. We stayed home and sheltered in place, doing our best to protect all that we held dear. And we messed up. We backslid. We fell back on bad habits and let pain and fear rule us rather than grace and love. But we kept showing up and fighting for the us we had been and the us we could still be.

And now, two years later, we celebrate our 10th anniversary. Not with the big party we had initially planned or the trip we planned as a back up, because life and kid and jobs. We do, though, celebrate with probably the most happiness of any of our anniversaries since the day we were married. We celebrate with the hope and excitement of our 20's combined with the comfort of our 30's. We celebrate with a house full of precious babies who give us a reason to keep fighting. We celebrate with thankful hearts for the friends who encouraged us, the family who loved us, and the very big God who taught us grace and unconditional love. We celebrate these ten years for every peak and valley that has brought us here today. Happy anniversary, RB. Thank you for loving me fiercely through the good and the bad. I know the best is still ahead.

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God; and everyone who loves is
born of God and knows God.

1 John 4.7