I married in my late teens. I don’t regret it. I don’t regret waking up every morning to the person that I love the most. I don’t regret making coffee at dusk, just so we can talk late into the nights — about life, friends and the future.

I don’t regret the moments we attempted to go sailing, only to find ourselves laughing at the shore. I know I wouldn’t regret marrying him even sooner than we did, because every day I live — I find out something new about him — something that always finds its way to stir my heart even closer to his.

I don’t regret marrying someone who lifts my soul when I’m heavy laden, or who strokes my hair when I’m weeping on the cold, concrete floor. I don’t regret our fights in the car, or how he always manages to make me smile afterwards.

I once thought to myself, while looking over the vast sea — there’s just nothing more I could expect from him — I felt I knew his best already.

I found out a couple of days afterwards, that I was wrong. His spontaneity is something that has always struck me. I guess I may have taken that for granted all of these years. One morning, he woke me up too early — the only thing I may regret — but he sat me up, and told me that we were going to read The Word together.

I remember smiling. I remember closing my eyes, fingering the tattered pages of his Bible as he read to me.

“You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you.” —Song of Solomon 4:7

As he read, I felt uplifted. I felt new. This is how I always feel when he reads to me.

And then there are the nights I feel my heart could give out — where pain, anger and sorrow seem to drown me — and he’s there… always there to calm my sea.

These are the nights he becomes tender — where I feel him so deeply, I don’t feel that I am on earth. The moments where he envelopes me, and whispers in my hair, “Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” —Isaiah 46:4

I remember when he calmed the storm — when he told the wind and the waves to be quiet and still. This gave me faith. I remember when he stooped down to the adulterous woman, and told her he would not condemn her. This gave me grace. I remember him saying that all who follow him will have the light of life. This gave me hope.

These are only a few of the moments I reflect upon that assure me of why I don’t regret marrying him when I did — because he is always with me, through the thick and the thin. People say that when you marry young, life could get ordinary after years of being together. Which is why, it’s imperative that I never forget the day I was reborn in my late teens, my first marriage — my first wedding day to the God who stilled the waters.

I get to remember that I am always his and that has always been enough.

“My darling, I am yours, and you are mine…” —Song of Solomon 2:16

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