No depth, no darkness, no beautiful weird complexity, no
questions.
I can barely even type that now. It is with great affection
that I tell you Aaron is the weirdest, deepest, wildest-
minded, wildest-hearted person I know. He’s all questions, a
galaxy of what-if and why-not and could-it-be. Everything I
thought about this sweet, uncomplicated, long-haired
worship leader was a thousand-percent wrong. And I fell
hard.
I thank God for that long-haired worship leader I got so
wrong all those years ago. I thank God for every ounce of
his dreaming, boundary-breaking, future-oriented mind and
heart. I thank God for the grace he gives me time after time.
I thank God for a partner who makes intentional space for
who I am, even when I don’t always make it for myself.
I tell people all the time that I’d never be a writer without
Aaron, and it’s true. I believe in being sensible and safe. I
hate criticism, and people writing things about me online—
especially about how I look—undoes me.
We’ve built a life and a family on love and art and
messiness, and fifteen years later we’re still trusting that
there’s plenty of space in this life we’ve created for two
dreams, two passionate wild-hearted makers.
For many years, we traveled so much for work, together and
separately, that our wedding anniversary became little more