We dated for two weeks, got engaged, and were married nine months later.
Our wedding was a disaster (we laugh about this now).
My parents were opposed.
We were still in school, with only part-time jobs, and no firm life goals.
I was only 20, and collinsmom was 19.
We have raised two children, eight cats, and one dog.
We have lived in thirteen different houses.
We have survived several major crises (mostly medical).
We have spent most of our marriage dealing with the pastoral pressure cooker.
And we are still together, whereas many of our friends and family -- all of whom seemed more mature, more prepared, better connected to the church, better financed, etc. -- have seen their marriages fall apart.
Something to be said there about stubbornness. Or maybe dumb luck. Or perhaps just the grace of God.
As for falling in love and getting married, I'm glad I did it. But it's sort of like being awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor: you feel and proud and humble at the same time, you're glad you survived -- and you sure wouldn't ever want to go through all that again.