A playlist, a prayer, and a picture of love growing into a home.
Dan + Shay recently released Her, The Kids, and Jesus, and I immediately fell in love with it.
The song made me revisit many of their older songs, and I realized why I have always loved their music so much. When listened to together, their songs seem to tell one beautiful, continuous story.
It begins with Nothin’ Like You—the moment you meet someone who feels different from everyone else. Then comes 10,000 Hours, the desire to keep knowing that person for a lifetime; Glad You Exist, the gratitude of having found each other; and We Should Get Married, when love becomes a decision.
The story continues through For the Both of Us, with a man asking for a father’s blessing; Speechless, as he watches the woman he loves walk toward him; and From the Ground Up, when a wedding becomes the beginning of a marriage that is built slowly, faithfully, and intentionally.
But perhaps what I love most is that their songs do not stop at the wedding.
There is You, about continuing to choose the same person; Marry You Again, about looking back and knowing that, given the chance, you would still make the same choice; and Say So, which reminds me that love should also create a safe place for people to speak honestly.
Because a good marriage is not only made of romantic moments.
It is also built through ordinary conversations, shared responsibilities, laughter at the dinner table, long journeys home, misunderstandings that are patiently resolved, and the willingness to continue learning about one another.
Love grows when two people can speak and listen without making each other afraid. It grows when both are willing to say, “This is what I feel,” “This is what I need,” or even, “I was wrong.”
Then love grows beyond the two people who first fell in love.
When I Pray for You brings us into parenthood—the hopes and prayers that begin even before a child understands how deeply they are loved. Keeping Score reminds us to cherish the little moments, while Bigger Houses reminds us that happiness is not necessarily found in having more, but in appreciating the people already gathered inside our home.
And finally, there is Her, The Kids, and Jesus.
For me, it feels like the destination toward which all those earlier songs were quietly leading: a life where love has grown into commitment, commitment has grown into a family, and the family continues to find its direction in God.
Maybe that is the kind of romance I love now.
Not only flowers, beautiful words, or grand gestures, although those things can still be wonderful. I love the idea of a man who is faithful in the ordinary days, who comes home not only physically but also emotionally, and who continues choosing his family even when life becomes busy.
A man who can communicate honestly, listen with humility, apologize sincerely, and protect the trust placed in him.
A man who understands that being a husband is not simply a title received on a wedding day. It is a promise lived out through countless small decisions.
And as a mother, these songs eventually become a prayer for Lemuel too.
Someday, if God leads him toward marriage, I hope he will not only know how to make someone fall in love with him. I hope he will also have the character required to care for that love.
I pray that he becomes a man who is gentle without being weak, firm without being harsh, and honest even when honesty requires courage.
May he know how to communicate instead of withdrawing, how to listen instead of immediately defending himself, and how to admit his mistakes without feeling that doing so diminishes him.
May his future wife feel loved not only through his words but also through his consistency. May his children know him not merely as the father who lives in their house, but as someone who is genuinely present in their lives.
Most importantly, may Jesus be more than a name mentioned in family prayers. May Christ shape the way he loves, leads, forgives, makes decisions, and returns to what truly matters.
Perhaps that is why these songs mean so much to me.
Together, they describe more than falling in love. They describe choosing, building, communicating, growing, praying, and creating a place where everyone inside it feels safe and loved.
Someday, I would like to read this again and remember the kind of love I have always prayed would fill our home:
A love that keeps choosing.
A love that keeps growing.
A love that becomes a marriage, a family, and a prayer.
Her, the kids, and Jesus.
Perhaps, in the end, those are the things that matter most.
