Twenty-Five years ago today, Carrie-Anne and I hopped on a tiny little plane at the Amarillo airport and flew to Las Vegas where we were married at 11:30 that evening by a J.P. in the basement of the Clark County courthouse. I remember standing in a fairly long line at the marriage license counter late that night and thinking it odd that there were so many people doing what we were doing. Then we noticed that we were the only two sober people in the building. Which was funny. And kinda sad.

I wonder how many of those people in the room with us that night ever have any regrets about getting married in Vegas on a Saturday near midnight?

Not me.

Carrie-Anne, I’ve always felt like it’s appropriate that we got married over the Thanksgiving weekend because I am so thankful to God you said ‘yes’ to me that day. And I’m eternally grateful that you keep saying ‘yes’ with every new day. With every new challenge. In every new phase. With every move, every heartache, every kid, every celebration, every setback, and every victory. You are such a constant and consistent presence of God in my life, a faithful reminder of how blessed by him I am.

Over the months and years, my love for you has grown deeper. It’s richer. It’s more significant. It’s more meaningful. More grateful. It’s stronger. Better. We’ve been through a whole lot together. Together. Together. Together. And I’m so glad.

Thank you, Carrie-Anne, for every hour of every day of every year for the past twenty-five. Even the sad hours. Even the tense moments. Even the tough stretches. I’m so thankful for every minute that you and I have been “one.”

I love you,