Buckle up for a personal, sappy story!

On my husband and I’s wedding day four years ago, there was real love present—but there was also deep hurt. Circumstances outside of our control cast a shadow over a day that was meant to feel sacred, joyful, and safe. Though the gospel still shone through our unity and our covenant before God was no less holy, I quietly carried grief for the fairytale I thought we’d have—the kind of day where love feels light, joy is obvious, and the photographs reflect peace instead of endurance.

For a long time, I didn’t quite have words for that grief. It felt wrong to mourn something when the marriage itself was good. But over time, I’ve learned that joy and sorrow often coexist, and God is gentle with both. He met us in our marriage even when our wedding day felt fractured—and He has continued to meet us ever since.

This year, on our fourth wedding anniversary, we decided to honor that tenderness instead of ignoring it. On our annual anniversary trip, we found ourselves surrounded by the wild stillness of the Grand Tetons—mountains rising high, clouds rolling in, rain beginning to fall. It felt reverent. Untouched. Honest. And there, in the midst of creation, we chose to re-read our vows.

The same vows we spoke four years ago. The same promises. Because while our wedding day didn’t unfold the way we hoped, our covenant never changed.

We stood alone—no guests, no expectations, no distractions. Just us and God as our witness. And as we read those words again, they landed differently. Heavier in the best way. Rooted. Proven.

“Through His grace, we might grow together into the likeness of Christ, our Savior and Lord. We are a unit now; together, we will be vessels for God’s service in accordance to His perfect will. I promise to love you as myself because in His sight, we shall be one.”

Reading those vows in the midst of towering creation felt like redemption—not a replacement for our wedding day, but a healing of it. A remembering. A reclaiming. A quiet acknowledgment that God has been faithful to us in every season, including the painful ones.

I’m endlessly grateful to be Luke’s wife. He is the greatest example of unconditional love and discipleship in my life—steady, patient, and anchored in Christ. I have never loved anyone more, and walking beside him through both joy and disappointment has deepened my understanding of what covenant truly means.

Marriage, I’ve learned, isn’t defined by one perfect day. It’s shaped by daily choosing, by grace upon grace, by two people continually turning toward one another and toward God. Our redemption day wasn’t about rewriting the past—it was about honoring what has endured.

And so, we celebrated the best way we know how: with a grand adventure. In the rain. In the mountains. With vows that remain just as true today as the day we first spoke them.

Here’s to love that lasts. To covenant over circumstance. And to a God who redeems even the tender places.

(Pics by *yours truly* on a self timer!)