My whole life, I wanted to be a missionary in Africa.
I also really, really wanted to be married.
I didn't really think that I would get both. After all, the ratio of single missionary girls to single missionary guys is like 30:1. (I know, it's pathetic.)
I figured that was a sacrifice I might have to make. I was all set to go out single when Gil (and God) intercepted those plans. I wrote out the story a few years ago here, if you're interested.
But even though I knew I was marrying a dynamite, missions-minded guy, I still didn't really know for sure if God would take him to Africa.
But He did--nine months after we got married.
And now, after spending 10 of our 13 1/2 years in Africa, we're going back again.
How thankful I am for this guy, who has remained my best friend and partner in ministry in Africa. Don't think for a minute that I underestimate the significance of this blessing.
Last week, we ditched the kids and spent a few days in Pacific Grove, celebrating our 13 1/2 anniversary. (We were on the road for our 13th and probably won't really get a chance to celebrate the 14th.)
We really do have a lot to celebrate. To God be the glory.