Tender wedding vows for a wife at a church ceremony

I remember the night the power went out in our first apartment, and we sat on the kitchen floor with one candle between us, laughing because neither of us could find the flashlight. I didn't feel afraid, I felt home. That's what you do for me — you turn small, uncertain moments into ones I want to keep.

Standing here in this church, with the light coming through the windows the way it did through that one candle, I want to promise you this: I will keep finding the light with you, even when I can't find the flashlight either.

I promise to listen first and fix second, to let your worries be heard before I try to smooth them away. I promise to choose patience on the hard days and gratitude on the easy ones, because both are gifts you give me.

I promise to build a home with you that feels like that kitchen floor — simple, steady, lit by whatever we have on hand, as long as we have each other.

Today, in front of the people who love us, I give you my hand, my heart, and every ordinary evening still to come.

That night the power went out, I remember reaching for your hand before I reached for the candle. You laughed at me for being dramatic about the dark, but the truth is, I just wanted to know exactly where you were.

That's the vow underneath this vow: I always want to know where you are, and I want you to always be able to find me just as easily, in the dark or in the light.

I promise to be the steady hand you reach for first, not the solution you look for second. I promise to sit with you in uncertainty instead of rushing us both toward comfort.

I promise to make our home a place where small disasters become small jokes, where power outages become candlelight, because that is the kind of love I want to keep practicing with you.

Here, before God and everyone we love, I take you as my wife, and I promise you every evening, lit or unlit, for the rest of our life together.