But they always asked for mine.
At freshly 22, I'd tease him that I was his young wife, gladly wearing smooth skin and pre-baby curves as I joked.
And he'd look at me adoringly, smile a wide grin, and agree even though I'm actually only two months and some change younger.
It's been seven and a half years, one mortgage, one business, two little boys, two angel babies and now another baby on the way since we said I do, and when we go out now and order a drink neither of us are asked to prove we're of legal age ...
That's what living long days and learning hard into what life gives and clinging fiercely to God while together weathering storms does to our bodies -- it ages us in ways we've not only felt but in ways we can see.
Gray hairs bright and shiny amid my copper-brown locks and small smile lines surrounding eyes and body swelled and stretched in motherly ways.
But John -- he's only a little grayer in the hair and it blends seamlessly in with his short, blonde hair and the smile lines around his eyes are barely noticeable and he's seven pounds lighter and leaner.
It's when I take this good look at my own reflection and then his that I see it in his face.
There is love spread over it in ways I didn't before know or see or recognize.
And I'm thankful for the way we wear our age
reminders of the love we've sown and grown and harvested along the way.
|Link your moment at Brook's|