Dear Brandon [14 years together, 2 months into parenthood]

Dear Brandon;

We have made it seven weeks into our new life, my love.

And you had to know, on some level, that a decent portion of the processing through our journey would make its way onto this keyboard eventually.

You know me well enough to know how proclamation is in my veins – especially when it’s something this big – and that I will never stop desiring for our marriage, and our lives, to be a canvas that displays the real, raw, challenging, but beautiful reenactment of the Gospel that it was designed to reflect (although ever so imperfectly).

So, I write to you. Intimately, and personally – and yet on display for all to see.

I hope they see Him.

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Seven weeks ago, our lives changed ever so drastically.

But as of today it’s been 14 years now, just you & me.

For almost 10 of those years, we have been married and moving around the country and living in incredible purpose built just for us – living a story that’s been full of uncomfortable twists and sweet provision -continually falling in humility and desperation at the feet of the King – together.

We are a team.

You & me.



I remember in the days and weeks leading up to Everly’s birth, pondering what it would be like for our dynamic to shift – and for us to not only be a team, but now also a family.

I prayed that the Lord would teach us new things through it.

That we would be brought closer to each other and closer to Him.

I pictured it being beautiful and hard.

I had no idea just how deep the beauty and the pain would run.



Already, I so miss the little things.

The sweet and still evening routines together; the quiet mornings of lengthy study and worship side by side, the ease of our daily rhythms, intimacy without any interruption, the constant partnership in ministry outside these walls, the flexibility of our outings, and the occasional choice to be lazy together all day long…

I miss what we had together that was so good; the things that understandably experience change in the wake of being gifted with parenthood.

I didn’t know I would experience some level of grieving over that; even as we celebrated it.

But I also didn’t know how beautiful it would be – watching you take my hand through this transition.

There’s a whole list of things I couldn’t have anticipated -

Like how I would experience an entirely new level of closeness to you that I didn’t even know was possible, as you facilitated worship and supported me through labor and ultimately held up my leg in that delivery room and coached my through the delivery of our daughter.

As she entered the world, and our arms, and as we received fulfillment of promise together –

I loved you in all the old ways, and in a new way that can’t be described.

When you became her father, my heart burst. I saw the Kingdom of God on display in whole new ways; and I will never be the same.


And I have spent all our days watching you provide a kind of care for my heart and mind and soul and body that is rare, and that I cherish deeply.

But in the days following her birth – as my body experienced the fullness of postpartum trauma – the way you demonstrated that care was even more mind blowing.

There are pieces to recovery and transition into motherhood that just aren’t pleasant.

You’ve been there for every bit of ache, every tear I cried, every emotional hurdle, every ounce of blood, every step I could barely walk in the hospital room, every difficult climb in and out of the bed, every challenging trip to the bathroom, every moment of not knowing the answers of how to parent, every discouraging fight to experience physical healing, every doctor’s appointment for her and for me, every middle of the night feeding, every bit of sleep deprivation and confusion, every ounce of overwhelming emotion…

As I navigated pain that didn’t get better, and found out that I had been experiencing an allergic reaction to the sutures used after birth – you held my hand and comforted me through the hurt.

As I sat with lactation consultants and felt so discouraged from the complications we were facing and the lack of growth Everly had experienced as a result – you spoke truth and life and hope.

As I battled the drastic way that hormones change after delivery and the feelings of sadness and wondering if things would ever get easier – you understood me and directed me back to Jesus.

As feedings increased, you shouldered the weight of them – even in the dark of night.

Even as you battled your own realizations of just how difficult this new life is – even as you fell before our God in humble recognition of your desperation for Him – never once did you leave my side.

Scripture says that husbands are to love their wives as Christ loved the church, and gave Himself sacrificially for her – for us.

Though imperfect, you display that Gospel love so well.

Sacrificially pursuing me in the wildest of ways.

I understand the heart of God more fully as I watch your attempts to mirror His affection.

I have been cherished. Cared for. Led. Loved.

My hand has been held by you, and more perfectly by our God, through all the chaos of settling into the most beautiful difficulty I have ever known.

This transition has been hard – and through it all, I had no idea that even as we lost a part of what we had; I would gain a whole new appreciation for the man and leader and husband and teammate and best friend and father to our daughter that you are.

I couldn’t have anticipated how deeply it would move my heart to watch you make faces at our daughter as she lays in your arms.

I didn’t know that nothing on earth would compare to the way that you look at me when I am caring for her.

I had no idea that when you and I found new ways to love her and parent her together, that it would be a whole new level of togetherness that transcends what we have known before.

Our lives have shifted, and there is much that I miss – but I am so grateful for what we have gained, and so excited to watch how we grow closer together, closer to our God, and closer to this miracle baby that is half you/half me/and fully of the Lord.

There is much to be celebrated, in the beauty and the difficulty. And I choose it all with you, forever, Brandon.

I marry you every day.