Friday, November 20, 2015

a letter to future husband:

promise me you will never try to "contain" me--trust that i am yours even when i give my whole heart to the whole world. know that in my mind i will always think of you first and last. don't let me tell you that i won't dance--i can't dance, but that doesn't mean that i don't want you to make me. don't believe the protests i will make when we are at a wedding and the music is to your liking.

stubbornness gets me in a rut every.damn.time. chances are, if i give any indication of being stubborn, the very thing i am "fighting" for will become more for the sake of pride than of relevance.

i gave my heart to jesus a long time ago, and i will fight for that relationship most of all because it means that, though you come second, you are a valued second that i can only love to full capacity when i am loving him foremost.

i want to bake you treats and cook you hardy dinners.

let me steal your shirts and socks, and i'll promise to do your laundry.

teach me how to compromise. remember, i told you i'm stubborn.

my hot-headedness is best cooled with honesty. so, be honest, don't hold back and tell me how you feel. that always brings me a sobered perspective.

take me on adventures. costco and a car full of screaming children and every day life constitute as adventure, but just because we become accustomed to life's rhythms does not mean that mountain tops, air planes, coffee shops, ocean views and forests will go extinct. show me the world when our own world needs mending and perspective.

i like to be pulled in close, so you have my permission to hug me tight and kiss my forehead at any time and place.

insist on driving the car, even when i seem apprehensive about it. i like it when my hand is held while you're in control of where we're going, even if i flinch at any sudden stop or criticize that you're driving too fast or too slow.

write to me. and please never stop. i'll take a hand written letter over chocolate and shoes and restaurants any day.

but if you insist on buying me something, fill my countertops with flowers and greens, and fill my shelves with books. or craft me things that come from your mind and hands.

read the bible to me, or with me. vow to say prayers with me whenever we can. hold my hand in church, but most of all raise your hands to jesus.

laugh at whatever you find funny. chances are i will join in on loving your humor.

promise to at least listen, even when you're angry.

let's make a home in all its glorious, unconventional flaws. i don't care if we move miles, states, oceans away--just call me yours and i'll call you mine, and the roof over our head will be ours.

don't stop dreaming, ever.

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