Worth The Risk

This post is a part of the Five Minute Friday link up. We write for just 5 minutes on a one-word prompt, with no heavy editing, and see what happens. Today’s prompt is “risk.”



On March 2nd, my husband and I will be celebrating 29 years of marriage. I am thiiiis close to having been married longer than I was single. That’s a really weird feeling.

Before we began officially dating, I had what I now identify as dating anxiety. Whenever I would be out on a date—rare though that was—I would get clammy hands, my heart would race, and I would feel nauseous. Classic anxiety symptoms, right?

So when David, came along, I vowed to treat our relationship like any other friendship, hoping to forestall those same feelings. One need not get anxious with a friend, right?

Right. That worked for a little while, but, you know, he was cute. And kind. And funny.

But still, I didn’t know if he would be worth the risk.

But we talked about my anxious feelings, and I could be more open with him than I could with anyone else ever. And eventually our friendship blossomed into romance. I had some anxious moments, but because I could be honest with him and say, “Hey, I’m feeling anxious right now,” I was able to deal with those feelings and let God heal me from them.


29 years of marriage later, I can say definitively that it was worth the risk. He is my best friend. I can still tell him anything and he’s still cute. And funny. Just with a few more (OK, a lot more) gray hairs.


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8 thoughts on “Worth The Risk

  1. Congratulations – almost three decades of marriage! We are in that third decade as well and often think – who could have imagined?? I always love those photos from the early days:)

  2. Congratulations!

    I wonder what she really thinks,
    the wife of that white wedding day;
    do I tempt her now to drink
    or to scream and run away?
    I may not be just quite what
    this lovely lady had in mind,
    for her life and future but,
    well, they say that love is blind.
    Now, it is true that she wears glasses,
    and I do not, but I am smart
    enough to see that ‘blindness’ passes
    for not sight, but for the heart,
    and from her heart it is proclaimed,
    “I love you, dear, but you’re insane.”

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