So… we’re off again.

Destination: Everywhere.

But honestly, it feels more like “Everything-Goes-Wrong-ville.”

Before we even left, the twins had to be rerouted to grandma instead of their big sisters—family emergency style. My bags weren’t even zipped before my brain zipped into meltdown. We’ve just come off two weeks of straight work and church, with weddings every weekend (which, yes, Matt officiated—he’s basically Windhoek’s full-time wedding pastor now). We’ve driven from town to town, made it home most nights after 2 a.m., and here I sit, finally on a plane… supposed to be excited… but if I’m being honest?

I’m exhausted.

Like soul-deep, coffee-can’t-fix-this kind of tired.

And I’ve still got 15 hours of travel ahead.

But there’s a reason for this journey.

You see, Matt and I have been together for 10 years. Ten beautiful, chaotic, hilarious, spirit-led years. We’ve got the twins (oh my goodness, the twins), we’ve got Elevate, we’ve got ministry, and we’ve got people… always people. And somewhere in the midst of all the pick-ups, drop-offs, sermons, spreadsheets, phone calls, and potjies-for-the-entire-church, I started to miss him.

Not the co-parent. Not the co-pastor.

Him.

The man with those kind green eyes.

The one who can make me laugh with the silliest of jokes.

The one who talks deep things with me, soul things.

The one I still want to stare at across a candlelit table, even after all this time.

Romance? Oh yes, it matters to me. But even more than that—it’s the intellectual conversations that make me melt. The ones that start with, “What do you think God meant in that verse?” and end in laughter and tears and “pass the popcorn.”

Lately, our conversations have been mostly logistical and emotional triage. “Who’s picking up the kids?” “What’s for supper?” (By the way—I hardly ever cook. You know why? Because I married the full package!) Matt is the kind of man who comes home, rolls up his sleeves, helps clean, helps cook, plays with the kids, prays with the kids… and then disappears into the study where I sometimes find him on the floor, hands raised, heart undone in worship. That’s my favorite version of him—the one soaked in the presence of Jesus.

So today, this blog is a bit different.

It’s not a lesson. It’s a reminder.

Ladies—can I talk to your heart?

Take some time for that beautiful husband of yours.

Order some food (because life is short and Woolies delivers), pour a glass of whatever makes your soul smile, and just be with him.

Laugh. Touch. See him again. Appreciate the man God gave you.

Because James 1:17 says it best: “Every good and perfect gift is from above.”

And you know what? That includes him.

This trip? It’s about that.

Appreciating the gift of him.

Stay tuned for more travel tales and late-night airport truths.

With love,

V