I was reading back through my anniversary posts from years past, and I am so thankful to not be wandering in those confusing, painful seasons anymore. Maybe more days like that will come. Probably more days like that will come.
This time around, though, I know that we can get through it. We can make it through anything. Year eight was the Promised Land after all the years of wandering. Finally, the "for better."
Thank you Jesus for a taste of glory.
During year eight, I fell in love with Matt a thousand times over as I watched him fall in love with our daughter. I can't imagine an earthly joy that compares to watching him be a daddy.
On our walk yesterday, I commented that year eight was the best yet. He replied that the next one, year nine, would be even better.
How?, I asked. We already have Millie. How could it possibly be any better?
He actually couldn't think of anything concrete, because clearly I was right (not unusual). We did agree, however, that the next year might be a tiny bit better because we would have Millie for ALL of it- not just 10.75 months of it. And so I'll give him that. I guess the next year might be better. We will be a family of three for all of it. And I really don't imagine it can get any better than that. (But I'm open to being proven wrong, I suppose.)