She was my best friend’s sister.
His older sister.
It wasn’t as if I’d never seen her before. Everybody knew Mandy (at least every adolescent boy). She was stunning, and her glam-rock 80’s perm added at least a foot and a half to her height. A hair-spray tsunami that gave her just one more unfair advantage at standing out in a crowd.
She was leagues out of my league, but hanging out with her younger brother proved to be a smart move. I had insider access. A chance encounter. An accidental conversation. An “oops, I forgot David was out of town for the week when I walked over, but since I’m here anyway what are you up to today?” opportunity. She was magic.
I was 16 years old when we first really met. And this Friday, July 29, we celebrate 16 years of marriage. It took me awhile (mostly until I was of legal age), but I somehow won her heart.
And one major career change later (For the record, she swore she’d never marry a pastor. I knew there was a good reason I initially studied accounting).
We’re far from perfect. Not without flaws. Not without scars. Some days we love each other well, and some days we fall far short of God’s glorious design.
But every day she’s mine to pursue. God’s precious gift. And living proof that sometimes the dorky accountant really can win the heart of the princess.
Happy 16th Anniversary my love. Let’s keep this thing going, whaddaya say?