How to not marry a jerk . . .

So this really was the topic of our sermon at church today. It was predominantly geared toward singles and those in the courting stage, but it was so good. As Randy was taking us through the steps to avoid marrying a jerk . . . I looked over at my husband, with his fresh hair cut, wearing a shirt I love on him, and I couldn't help but think, "I made it! I DIDN'T marry a jerk." He is such a great friend, and husband, and dad. We went out with two other couples from church this weekend (our age, same age kids as us) and they asked us to tell "our story" . . . how we met, how we got engaged, what attracted us to each other. There's something so great about going back a decade and talking about what it was like meeting and getting to know "the boy" who would eventually become my husband and the father of my babies. It's just fun to be married. It's fun to be in love and to be such good, good friends. It's amazing to have the fortress and and the secret safe garden of a marriage . . . a place that is only ours. Many times when we're around other couples, they will start telling stories about each other. You know, embarrasing stories. But we are cautious about opening the garden gates to others. Well, there was this time that Josh told our entire, new small group that I was reading, "Bridget Jones Diary." I told him not to tell anyone, thinking that book was a little pedestrian for someone with an English degree. I've since read up on lots of Hemingway, Greene, Chesterton, and an occasional Bronte girl. But other than that, he keeps my secrets and I keep his. So, to the poor singletons waiting . . . keep watch and wait with "vigilant patience."