Pearls, Promises, and God’s Perfect Timing
Twelve years ago — on September 7, 2013 — I stood next to my best friend, Antwon, and said yes not just to a wedding, but to everything that would come after. This anniversary, I’ve been reflecting on how our story unfolded—through God's perfect timing, intentional design, and love built one ordinary moment at a time.
Fittingly, we spent our anniversary weekend at a wedding—celebrating a sweet couple just beginning their own journey. Watching them say their vows reminded me of how sacred those promises are… and how much more meaningful they become with time. To witness the beginning while living in the middle of our own story was a gift.
They say the 12th anniversary is symbolized by silk or pearls—both elegant, resilient, and formed over time. I’d like to think our marriage carries a little of both: strength that’s been refined, and beauty shaped by the journey.
How We Met (…Eventually)
Antwon and I actually went to the same high school. Same hallways, same cafeteria—probably passed each other dozens of times—but we never really talked. It wasn’t until after high school that our story truly began.
One day, I got a message on MySpace (yes, I’m officially dating myself). It was Antwon, checking in and asking how life had been since high school. A simple “how are you?” turned into something much more. A couple of days later, we randomly ran into each other at Penn Station. Total coincidence—or maybe just one more way God was subtly crossing our paths.
For the next few months, we went back and forth with MySpace messages before we finally exchanged numbers and started talking more regularly. What started out casual and unexpected slowly became something real.
It didn’t take long before we realized just how many times our lives had already crossed paths. My dad was actually the realtor who helped Antwon’s mom purchase their home when Antwon was in junior high school. Even more surprisingly, his mom was best friends with our next-door neighbor from my childhood—and Antwon spent a lot of time at their house. That means for years, the person I’d eventually marry was literally just steps away. God had been weaving our stories together long before we ever knew it.
What We’ve Built
When we first started dating, I was in nursing school with no intention of dating anyone. Antwon was in college, and we were both focused on our futures. But somehow, even in the middle of full schedules and big dreams, we found each other.
Over the years, we’ve walked through a lot—graduating, growing in our careers, having children, grieving losses, and building a life together. A life that’s better than anything I could have imagined at 23 years old when we got married.
One of the first chapters in our marriage was also one of the hardest.
Within the first year of our marriage, we experienced the unimaginable—losing our baby girl, Alana. There are no words that truly capture what it’s like to walk through that kind of pain. But somehow, even in that heartbreak, we learned something foundational: if we could make it through that, we could make it through anything.
That loss taught us to lean on God and lean on each other. It shaped how we communicate, how we hold space for each other’s grief, and how we never take the little moments for granted.
One of my favorite things about us is how we’ve continued to adapt through every season. I remember a time when Antwon was working two jobs, and I was working full-time. Between parenting and the daily grind, it was hard to find time to really connect. So we got creative. Antwon started meeting me for lunch at work. Just 30 or 45 minutes in the cafeteria—but it was intentional. It kept us close when life was trying to pull us apart. And honestly? It reminded us that connection doesn’t have to be complicated—it just has to be consistent.
12 Lessons from 12 Years
We don’t have it all figured out, but here are 12 things that have shaped us in these 12 years.
- God’s timing > our timeline. What feels delayed is often divine.
- Laughter keeps you light. Be silly. Laugh often.
- Respect sustains love. Speak well of each other—even in frustration.
- Talk about everything. Silence builds distance. Honesty builds bridges.
- Stay on the same team. Even when you disagree, don’t forget you’re partners.
- Say thank you often. Gratitude softens even the hardest days.
- Let each other grow. You’re not marrying a finished product.
- Forgive quickly. You’ll need grace too.
- Make room for fun. It doesn’t have to be fancy—just intentional.
- Protect your peace. Not every battle is worth your energy.
- Cheer each other on. Be the loudest voice in their corner.
- Keep God in the center. He’s the glue when things feel like they’re falling apart.
A Note About the Ones We Miss
As we celebrate twelve years of marriage, it’s hard not to think about the people who stood with us on our wedding day—smiling, praying, celebrating—who are no longer here.
My Grandmas: Gwen, Betts, and Barb.
Antwon’s great aunt Nellie.
His close friend Brian.
Each of them brought something special into our lives and into that day. They weren’t just guests—they were part of the foundation we stood on as we said “I do.”
Their absence is felt, especially on milestone moments like this. But their love, their presence, and the impact they had on us still lives on in the life we’ve built—and are still building—together.
We carry them with us. Always.
Final Thoughts
Our story isn’t flashy or perfect. It’s built in busy mornings, chaotic dinner hours, lunch dates squeezed into busy workdays, and early morning conversations on the drive into work. And that’s what makes it sacred. Marriage doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful.
It just has to be chosen—again and again, with intention, humility, and God at the center.
Cheers to 12 years, Antwon. I am so grateful for every moment with you—then, now, and still to come!
P.S.
Writing this post brought back so many memories—sweet beginnings, hard seasons, growth, grief, and so much grace. Shortly before my Granny passed, she told us something simple that’s stayed with us ever since: “Marriage is what you make of it.”
Twelve years later, I believe that now more than ever.
If you’re in a waiting season—trust that God is working.
If you’re in a growing season—stay planted.
If you’re in a hard season—keep choosing each other.
