Fall slapped me hello on my morning run and it hasn't stopped talking to me.  But I'm chattering back; I'm thrilled for fall today. I just spent the morning in the kitchen finishing the baking and cooking and now the cooler is packed and my bag is zipped and I have on this really cute road-tripping-top and in thirteen minutes he will be here with a bag of ice and a smile because we are leaving.

We're going to spend nights in the tent and eat sandwiches and climb up to waterfalls and lakes and we're going to breathe in another state, we're going to breathe in each other.  We'll teach each other things.  Look, this is where my parents used to stay, this is where Abbie and I biked that mountain, this is where my dad met me after I decided to move back home.

And Here, this is what it is to sleep on top of the earth, this is what exploring and climbing feel like, here is where I hear Him most, here is where I clear my head.

It has been almost three months and yesterday, while I was driving to the store and while David Gray was doing his best to soothe me, I realized that marriage is the conversation of two lives and sometimes, when it speaks louder than the blur of day-to-day living and it is born in grace and humility and patience something beautiful and risky and wildly wonderful happens.

My dear, let me teach you how to love me.