Once upon time, there was a prince. Who loved Excel spreadsheets, logic and plans. His plans. Plans to find a princess that would fit into his well-crafted happily ever after.
Now in a land, not too far away, lived a princess. Who loved creativity, existential logic and loosely drafted plans. Her plans. Plans that didn’t really include a prince at all or even a happily ever after.
But then they met.
It was not love at first sight. Or even second. Or third.
The prince thought the princess was not his type. And the princess thought the prince talked entirely too much. But they made each other laugh, so they determined to be friends.
Just friends.
Until they weren’t. Until they fell in love. Or something like it.
The prince still loved plans. And the princess, logic that defied logic. But they thought they knew what love was...
Love was rose petals and chiffon, candles and cards, long goodbyes and first kisses.
But then came marriage. Where love became something else entirely.
Love was humility, forgiveness and keeping your promises.
Love was remembering to bring home flowers. Or pretending you remembered by getting flowers the following day. Just as love was acting as though you had no idea they had been forgotten.
Love was watching girly movies or the Godfather series. In SEQUENCE.
Love was dirty socks in odd places, wet towels on the floor and clogged toilets.
Love was hospital beds and doctor visits and hugs that meant I love you no matter what.
Love was more than the prince or princess had imagined. Different, even. But strangely better than it had been before. And they thought they knew what love was...
But then came parenthood. Where love became something else entirely.
Love was putting yourself dead last and forgiving everything and keeping your promises before you made them.
Love was late nights and throw up and “I’m sorry,” even when you struggled to really mean it.
Love was poopy diapers and temper tantrums and realizing that “I hate this family!” probably meant you were doing your job well.
Love was dirty socks and everything else in odd places. It was more wet towels on the floor and more toilets, clogged.
Love was reading Thomas twenty times. Or Fancy Nancy. Or Guess How Much I Love You.
Love was still hospital beds and doctor’s visits and hugs that meant I love you no matter what.
Love was all the things that the prince and princess never dreamed they’d be. But they were love. Just the same.
And just as unexpectedly, the prince had long-forgotten the Excel spreadsheets. And the princess didn’t even need loosely drafted plans quite so much. For they realized their happily ever after would never be like all the story books.
It would be better.
Because of the King who had held them and loved them in hospital beds, through late nights and doctor’s visits. A King who knew love because He was love. A King who had held, carried and always kept His promise...
“I’ll love you no matter what.”