Happy Anniversary

Five years.  Five years I've been waking up next to the most incredible man on planet earth.  Really.  Sorry, ladies, it's true.  And I'm willing to go bare knuckles over it.

Our anniversary was two days ago, and it was one of my most favorite days of all time...

For some obvious reasons.

And for some not so obvious reasons.

Peter is not much of a "surprise guy".  And by that, I don't mean he's neglectful or doesn't want to surprise me.  He just feels inept at it, and psyches himself out about not coming up with a "good" surprise, thereby thwarting the surprise before it ever blossoms into fruition.  Which is really fine.  Because I'm not much of a surprise girl.  Because, truthfully, I'm just trying to keep the lamps lit and anything above and beyond three squares a day and raising my spider monkeys is just....stressful.  Also, I'm pretty low maintenance.

And I forget important dates.

I mean, like, ALL important dates.  Including my own birthday.  Which is awesome for Peter because he's low maintenance too and man it would just be wretched to have to keep topping every birthday and Valentine's day and Anniversary with something even more elaborate and yet completely meaningless each year.  I have a friend that get's totally stressed out over Valentines day.  It was two days past Valentines day and I was in Walmart with my kiddos and upon seeing racks of wilting flower bouquets and clearance shelves of over-sized stuffed animals with velvet hearts in their hands...I realized...."OH RIGHT!  Valentine's day!"

So, I went home, wished Peter a happy Valentine's day.

He said, "Oh, when was that?"

I said, "I think it was a couple of days ago".

Upon which we looked at each other with this knowing grin that says, "Man, I love being married to you and how I don't have to jump through Hallmark's hoops to show you that a couple of times a year."

And then we giggled and moved on and loved each other all the more for our obliviousness to the things that are "supposed" to make marriages better.  Aahheerrrrm.


But on this, our fifth wedding anniversary, my man did something spectacular!  He told me he had a surprise planned for us and I thought...saweeet!  Peter planned a surprise!!!  The morning of our anniversary, Peter and the kids and I got up like we do every morning and schlupped out the kitchen for our morning bowls of cereal.  But instead of my usual Cheerios, there were earings in my bowl!  Awww.  So I said, "what a wonderful surprise!!!  Thank you, honey!"

"You're welcome", he said, "But that's not the surprise."

Dang!  There's more??

So, after breakfast I go to the medicine cabinet to put on my contacts, and there, resting along side my saline solution bottle is a brand new copy of Les Miserables!  MY absolutely favorite movie of all time (only slightly below the Lord of the Rings trilogy...but that's a trilogy...and a phenomenon...and a blessing from the Lord of Hosts-amen.  So, Lord of the Rings is off on another planet of awesomeness....okay, just had to clarify.)  So, I run out of the bathroom jumping up and down with my copy of Les Mis like a teenager who has just been handed the keys to her parents minivan after she passes her driver's test.  Is THIS the surpise?

"No.  But I'm glad you're excited for Les Mis!"

Hmmmmm...now I'm getting a little perplexed here.  Two surprises, and neither of the m are THEE surprise. But because I'm not a person who likes to have things ruined for me, I decided not to even try to figure out what the surprise was and just let the day unfold.

Five o'clock rolled around, and Nana came over to watch our kiddos.  Peter and I said our goodbyes and hopped into the car.  We drove outside of Bismarck, headed west, then outside of Mandan, then we drove past the Beulah exit where we normally turn north to go and visit my parents.  As we cruised past the Beulah exit, I knew where we were headed.  Peter looked over at me and said, "Can you guess where we are going?"

"The Wagon Wheel?"  I asked.

"The Wagon Wheel", said Peter, "and a movie!"

Peter took me to the Wagon Wheel....because above all things, Peter knows his wife.  He knows me deep down in the places that I don't even like.  He knows the difference between trying to impress me, and trying to love me.  He knows the best way to reach into my soul is not to spend a lot of money or time on fancy stuff or gourmet food.  He knows his wife...and I try every day to make sure I know him in that same way..a way that's not on the surface with lots of other relationships...but in a way that's 7 layers deep.

The Wagon Wheel is this tiny little greasy spoon in a tiny little town called Hebron, North Dakota.  Every summer from my birth until we moved to North Dakota at age 13 was spent at my grandma's house in Hebron.  We would make the 8 million mile trip from Denver to Hebron every year.  And to a kid who grew up in the city where you couldn't walk down the streets of my neighborhood without fear of being kidnapped or being the  hapless victim of a driveby, Hebron was like an oasis of carefree wonder.  My cousin John and I would ride our bikes from one end of the town to the other, buying candy from the local grocery, swimming in the community pool all.day.long., and shooting off fireworks in the middle of Main St.  I learned how to drive in Hebron.  I was 7.  I couldn't reach the pedals so my dad worked those, and I sat proudly on his lap, grasping that huge steering wheel like I thought it might come flying off of the dash if I didn't hold it on there with my wirey-armed death-grip.  Hebron.  Still one of my favorite places on earth.

I won't go into all the mushy details of our date, but I will tell you it involved chocolate malts, curly fries, and the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever.  It involved talking to an older gentleman with failing health from dozens of heart attacks.  Lambert has been a staple at the Wagon Wheel since I was a kid.  He sits in the same seat at the same table every day.  He's changed now...sick and weary and battling a body that has long forgotten the vitality of the much younger man who used to occupy the same seat.  Peter and I talked with Lambert about my grandparents, and my dad and uncles until our food came.  I don't know what made me want to connect with this man (who didn't know me from Adam).  But I'm glad I did.  I'm glad I said hi.  He may not be there the next time I visit.  I'm glad I got to reminisce with this piece of my past.

After dinner we drove around Hebron, me yakking about this building or that building or what we did here or there.  Then we stopped at the school and played on the playground.  Like the big doofy kids we are.  We twirled on the merry-go-rounds.  And then I thought I'd puke so we stopped.  Apparently 20 years does a number on your ability to spin in circles for hours on end.  Ah well...se la vie.

After that it was off to the movie in a beautiful old theater from the 1930's which has been renovated and is an absolute jewel of a place (in my humble opinion).

And by the time our date was over, we were both tired and ready to jump in the car and head back to Bismarck, but we were both so overjoyed by our simple and wonderful and wonderfully simple anniversary. It was perfect...and getting more perfect by the moment, because my absolute favorite part of our anniversary came on the dark and still ride home.  In that hour on the lamp-less North Dakota highways we asked each other what we thought our lives would look like in 5 more years.  Peter said something so profound and yet so simple.  He said

I just want to be more like Jesus.  I want our whole family to be more like Him.

And that was it.  That was enough.  What better aspiration can any of us have?  Our best life, our most fulfilled life is found  in Him; is found in becoming his hands and feet; is found in loving those who "can't" be loved; in giving everything we have to those who have a need (like REALLY.  EVERYTHING WE HAVE.)

And the only thing I could think to say was, "Me too."  But then I added that I hoped Jesus would let us adopt by then.

And, Hannah, sweet girl, if you are ever ours, and you ever get to read this someday when you're old enough, just know, we talked about you from that moment until we were back in Bismarck.  We talked about what your life will be like if no one comes for you.  We talked about what your life would be like if we could call you ours.  We talked about the hardships facing you even when you do find a family (with us or someone else).  We talked about the joys found in a family too.

We talked about what life will be like for you with special needs, if you do, in fact, have special needs like your file eludes to.  We wondered out loud if, some day, you would need to go to a group home...if some day...mommy and daddy couldn't care for you like you deserve because of necessity or old age.  We even talked about what it would look like if because of your special needs you weren't able to adapt to your life in our family, if you were unable to live with us because of the damage that's been done to your sweet little body and mind in the orphanage.  We've known several adoptive families who have had to place their children in group homes for the child's safety and for the family's safety.  There are no guarantees, Hannah!  You might not adjust to our family.....but WE LOVE YOU.  NO MATTER WHAT.

If Jesus sees fit to bring you home to us, we will love you with an unending and unselfish kind of love.  No matter what.  Special needs?  We'll love you.  Perfectly normal?  We'll love you.  Group home?  We'll love you.  Radical attachment disorder?  We'll love you.  I pray we can love you face to face in this life.  But if another family is meant to have you grace them with your presence...then know this, sweet Hannah....we will love you in Heaven.  We will pray every day for you, at some point in your life, to ask Jesus to put His heart inside your chest, and yours in His.  That he would be your Daddy and you would be his child, and that with Him, you would find yourself in Heaven one day, being clobbered with kisses and hugs by two complete strangers who will have been praying your whole life for you...and waiting anxiously to meet you on the day your Daddy calls you home.

I love you, Hannah.

You were the best part of our five year anniversary.