Today my husband Patrick and I celebrate our 33rd wedding anniversary! (Our marriage is as old as Jesus was!)

We met in Tacoma, WA at a little church that had a heart for missions. I had returned from a one-person (me) mission trip for six weeks to Malaysia and Singapore. And Patrick was readying himself to work in Mother Teresa’s home for the dying and destitute in (then) Calcutta. He did meet her during his three-month stint.

And when he came back to Washington state, it wasn’t long before we started dating on December 30th, which means we dated one day shy of a year before we were married on December 29th, 1990 during a storm dubbed “The Arctic Express.” Most folks didn’t come to our wedding. It was small because of the icy, hilly roads.

We honeymooned in Puerto Vallarta (thanks to me selling my piano), then we settled down in a one-bedroom apartment in Federal Way, WA. Patrick was a vascular sonographer (he did this most of our married life), and I was a junior high English teacher.

Our first church experience was church planting when we moved to the Peninsula (Silverdale, then Bremerton where we bought our first home). After the cell church we tried to plant fizzled, we joined another local congregation. Then I gave birth to our first child, Sophie, on Christmas Eve.

Then we moved to Edmonds, WA where we lived in a tiny 500 square foot apartment, then bought our second house. We attended a new church where we made lots of friends. There, I gave birth to Aidan, then Julia.

And that’s when we did our first cross cultural move to Palestine . . . Texas. We joined a small church there and were a part of their leadership. While there, Patrick went to a Promise Keepers event where he sensed God’s call to him to be in ministry, during worship.

Next, we moved to Dallas so Patrick could attend Dallas Theological Seminary He got a ThM with a concentration in Church Planting. On our ten-year anniversary, he surprised me with a trip to Paris. While we were there, we sensed God calling us there to start a church. Once he graduated in 2004, we moved to France that August. Around that time I signed with a literary agent and sold my first two books.

We spent nearly three years in France as church planters. It was not easy. We had sold our home back in the states to a conman we met through a prayer team (gah!). This caused us to lose our house and all our credit. Our team really struggled on many levels. Our children had a hard time. I lost myself. We were diagnosed with PTSD while we were on the field. I still haven’t written publicly about this, as it involves other people, and it’s (quite frankly) shocking.

We moved back to Texas in a state of pain and chaos, still trying to process what we all went through. We jumped back into our sending church, school life, and working. Patrick had a really long, difficult commute, and I continued to write with some tumultuous years financially. (Losing everything when we lived in France had its consequences).

The kids moved through elementary school, middle school, and high school, then college (which the Lord was so kind to us to supply!).

Patrick shifted careers to be a bit adjacent (vascular medical records + training), and I continued to write and speak. Eventually I added art and agenting to my job description. We both led and taught a life group (like a small church–see a trend here?) for fifteen years. We are currently in transition in that space. All three kids live on their own, have jobs, and are delights.

God has been so very good to us. We still love each other very much and are anticipating the next adventure God has for us. I’m so grateful we’ve been together 33 years.