August 18, 2019
The day I met you at church
You walked in like the room had been waiting for you. I didn't know it yet, but my life split into before and after that Sunday.
for my wife, on her birthday
— from Joey, with everything
Some chapters are memories. Some are promises. Read slowly. None of it was rushed.
August 18, 2019
You walked in like the room had been waiting for you. I didn't know it yet, but my life split into before and after that Sunday.
December 3, 2019
First date, first yes. I still remember the exact weight of that night — soft, a little nervous, completely inevitable.
January 27, 2023
We grew apart, then we grew up, and then we found each other again. I will never stop being grateful for the second yes.
April 6, 2024
Down on one knee, heart in my throat. You said yes with the kind of certainty that rearranges the sky.
February 14, 2025
You were breathtaking. I cried before I could say my vows. Our families held us up when my knees wouldn’t.
February 15, 2025
Just to make sure. 😄 Two ceremonies, one promise: everything I am, until the last day I have.
April 28, 2025
Salt in our hair, your laugh louder than the water. I would pay anything to rewind one afternoon of that week.
September 2025
Two pink lines and a silence that filled the whole room. Then joy. Then more joy. Then the rest of our lives.
a photo
yet to be taken
June 13, 2026
The chapter we haven’t written yet. The one we’ve been preparing for our whole lives, without knowing it.
Things about you I want on permanent record.
"You sing worship songs like no one is listening — even when everyone is."
"You take your patients' hardest days personally, in the best way possible."
"You love your family fiercely and show up every single time."
"You have the kind of faith that doesn't need an audience."
"You can make any space look like it belongs in a magazine."
"You're honest with me — even when it's not what I want to hear."
"You said yes. And then yes again. (Feb 14 and Feb 15.)"
"You're going to be the most incredible mom."
"You wear beauty effortlessly — decor, fashion, you — all of it."
"You chose me back in January 2023. I'll never get over that."
A contact sheet of the life we keep building.
developed in the dark, kept in the heart
A few moments that deserve more than a still frame.
awaiting development
I cried before the first line.
You whispered you were pregnant-cold.
Salt, sunlight, your laugh.
For you — and only you.
Isabella,
I don't think I fully understood what I was signing up for when I met you in August 2019. I thought I was just meeting a girl. I had no idea I was meeting the person who would become my wife, my home, and my favorite human on earth.
You carry so much, and you make it look easy. You clock in at the ICU and care for people on the hardest days of their lives — then you come home and still somehow have more to give. You lead worship and pour into the youth at church. You make every room feel warmer just by being in it. And now you're carrying our baby. You're doing all of this at once, and you're doing it with grace I genuinely don't have words for.
I think about the version of us that broke up in April 2020. We both needed to grow. And we did — separately, honestly, and then back together in January 2023, better for it. I'm grateful we found our way back. I'm grateful every day that we did.
February 14, 2025. I married my best friend. February 15, we did it again — just to make sure. 😄 And then Jamaica. And then September, when we found out we were going to be parents.
You're about to be a mom. Watching you step into that is one of the greatest honors of my life.
Our child is going to have the most present, loving, fierce, beautiful, God-given mother. I promise to be the father you need me to be.
Thank you for choosing me — the second time especially. Thank you for your voice, your faith, your love for your family, your eye for beauty, and your absolute refusal to half-step anything you do.
Happy Birthday, Isabella.
I love you more than I did yesterday, and less than I will tomorrow.
This year, everything changes.
You become a mother.
We become a family of three.
And I get to watch you become
everything I already knew you were.
June XIII
the thirteenth of june · mmxxvi
to the most beautiful woman I know
"I love you more than I did yesterday,
and less than I will tomorrow."
made with every bit of love I have
— Joey