If Love was a Song,

If love was a song, I think it would begin with drums and trumpets. Opening bars of quickening hearts, falling into a breathtaking chorus. As the music plays, powerful and free, a steady peace is found – where the lulls and interludes are just as precious as the opening notes, and the butterflies and firework highs are just as special as the small, quiet moments that each play their part in making a beautiful melody.

From gentle smiles across the table, New Year’s Eve kisses on the cheek, the squeeze of a hand, and in any room, yours being the first face I see.

When I think about the start of our song, I picture you, standing across the street, perfectly yourself. I think about a coffee shared on a windy day in June that easily became the best yes of my life. Of course, as well as the yes I said here today, surrounded by the ones we hold close – and the yes I will continue to say for the rest of my days.

I think of the risk that comes with Great Love. The leap. The jump. The heart-on-the-sleeve. The chance that I would take a thousand times again knowing it would lead me to a lifetime with you.

Of all the joys I have known, one of the greatest, by far, is the front row seat I get to the song of your life – knowing you, growing with you, laying down my life with you. In fact, of all the songs in the world, this is the one I want to listen to forever.


In triumph and in trouble. In every form, shade and colour. In all of the stories we’ll tell, dances we’ll dance and chances we’ll take. When we’re walking on clouds and wading through the deep, I will be with you. And you, with me.


We’ll lift our eyes heavenward and look forward to a future rich in laughter, where we’ll break bread around the table with friends, keep the doors of our hearts wide open and count it all an adventure. We’ll count it all for the glory of God.


We’ll count it, above all, love.