The Little Things That Made Our Marriage Beautiful

I’ve known my husband since we were teenagers, having sung together in the church youth choir. He was slightly older than me and held a leadership role within the choir, often teaching us songs and guiding us through the mass. He was always actively involved in church activities and dedicated to the choir.

I never imagined that I would end up dating him, let alone marrying him. When rumors began circulating in the choir about him dating Alberta, I was there, but he never acknowledged me or showed any interest. Those rumors faded, only to be replaced by whispers about him and Edna. We saw signs that suggested it might be true, but they always denied it.

After finishing school, he returned to support the choir. He completed his university education and continued to be involved with the choir, while I had moved on to training college. A few years later, I graduated and returned to help the choir as well.

One day, the choir organized a party to celebrate us as long-serving members. Although we were no longer teenagers, the choir always had a way of drawing us back. One evening after rehearsal, he walked me home, and he did the same the following evening. On the third day, he asked, “If I told you I’m in love with you, would you find it strange?” I replied, “No, I wouldn’t find it strange, but I’d want to know why and why now.” He encouraged me to ask, so I did, “Are you in love with me?”

Two months later, we began dating.

I wanted to keep our relationship a secret until we were both certain, and he was fine with that. He walked me home after rehearsals every evening, which sparked rumors. With no way to hide, we eventually decided to go public about our relationship.

During the four years we dated, one thing became clear: he loved everything I loved. I mean everything, not just some things. Our shared passion for music was evident from our childhood. We sang hymns and gospel songs until one day I discovered he adored the Bee Gees just as much as I did. I visited his house one afternoon and heard “Rest Your Love On Me” playing. I started singing along, and as soon as I sang, “Lay your troubles on my shoulders…” he joined in, singing along until the end.

It felt just like being back in the choir. We replayed the track and sang every line until I left his house.

After four years of dating, we got married, and we’ve been happily married for almost nine years now. Whenever I discuss our marriage with friends and colleagues, I focus on the little things that make me want to be with him forever. It’s not about the challenges we’ve overcome or the car he gifted me on my 35th birthday, nor the retreats we take each wedding anniversary. It’s the fact that for the past nine years, my husband wakes up every morning at exactly 4 a.m., kneels beside the bed, and prays for us. Before concluding his prayer, he always says, “Thank you, God, for the gift of love and the beautiful woman you placed in the garden with me.”

That’s his private moment with God, and I’m not part of it. However, during the day, we hold hands and pray over everything before stepping out. Many things have changed in our lives over the last nine years, but that hasn’t. As I mentioned, it’s about the little things.

Little things like coming home from work in the evening, where he greets me at the door, wraps his arm around my waist, pulls me close, and squeezes me tightly until I yell. He’ll then ask, “I hope you’ve been good to the kids while I was away?” I’ve grown to love that squeeze so much that when I finish school and get home, I position myself near the door to be the first person he sees when he arrives. If he forgets, I remind him, “The squeeze, let me have it.”

The little things.

Like how he traces the scar on my butt when we’re alone and lying together. I don’t recall how I got that long scar, and I used to be shy about it during our dating days, insisting on turning off the lights before getting undressed. But with him, he’ll rest his head on my butt and read. When he wants to tease me, he traces the scar with his finger until he reaches the end and then gives me a playful spank. I know it’s coming, so sometimes I flip over and say, “You won’t catch me this time.”

The little things, like falling asleep to the Bee Gees and waking up to Hillsong United while my husband whispers his prayers.

Nine years may not seem long, but the joy I feel in his presence makes it feel like just yesterday. With three beautiful kids, a husband who never seems to age, and a home filled with music, what more could I wish for? It’s not always about the grand gestures; even a song, a prayer, a squeeze, and a scar can create a beautiful union when love and friendship thrive between two people.

—Perpetual,
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