Home.

Four years ago if you had told me that Doug Mauss and I would fall in love, get married and have a baby, I would have laughed in your face all the way down the aisle. I'd always admired Doug. I thought he was funny, whip smart, unique, and full of integrity. So what in the world would he ever see in me? Doug is button-up dress shirts and I'm a hand-me-down Pride soccer tee. Doug is a cappella and ultimate frisbee. I'm amateur belly dancing and... NOT a cappella...

I don't think any of our friends saw this coming. Our age difference alone was enough to keep us from even dreaming we'd be a match. But here we are, against the odds, joined together in the eyes of God. Our shared mailbox and mingled laundry are proof of our integration, as is our precious daughter, Fay.

I know Doug. I KNOW him, like I know how long to microwave the water for my tea, how many minutes my curling iron takes to heat up, where to find the light switch in the dark. I know him intuitively. And yet there are always surprises, like learning that he can do a dead-on impression of Dolores O'Riordan singing, "Zombie," or the fact that he was technically in the military for three months. Those are the things that keep me fascinated by my husband.

And even though we're an odd couple in some ways, we are so obviously perfect for each other in many more. Who else could weather my bouts of petulance with such patience? And who else but me could call him out on his pride with confidence? What other man would stroke my hair for hours until he was sure I was asleep? And what other woman would fold his shirts according to his meticulous preferences?

I guess what I'm getting at here is that somehow, God has taken the daily struggles and victories and used them for His glory. By unraveling and refining the fibers of our individual beings, He has knit us together. We are so united that sometimes we each forget how alike we've become, how connected we are. Our shared wry humor, penchant for trivia, and mutual distaste for tomatoes occasionally get lost in the daily grind. But those similarities-- our philosophies and woundings, our joys and sorrows-- are what keep us holding on, fighting for the purpose of marriage.

Somehow, miraculously, God has given us solace and refuge in one another.

This week we embark on another adventure. We are closing on our first home. Goodbye, transient apartment living. Hello, backyards and swing sets, front porches swings and mortgage payments.

We're ready for it, I think. It's funny, I kind of thought as the day drew nearer I would feel like we were going home. I don't feel that way, though. I suppose that makes sense, if you think about it.

Thanks, Doug Mauss, for being my home.