The Little Things That Mean Everything

Love stories often get told in big gestures—flowers, fancy dinners, surprise trips. But the truth is, the kind of love that carries our marriage is found in the quiet, ordinary moments. It’s in the way we choose each other daily, not with fireworks or flashy gestures, but with steady faithfulness.

The way my husband loves me isn’t about grand declarations—it’s in the little things that add up to a life of deep connection.

He makes me my morning coffee, before I even think about stumbling out of bed, so I can start the day with warmth in my hands. He runs a hot bath for me at the end of long days, lighting candles without being asked, as if to say, I see you, I know you need rest.

He meets me in my struggles with a listening ear and a big, soft bear hug that somehow makes the world feel lighter. He doesn’t try to fix everything, but he makes sure I know that I will never carry it alone.

He takes care of all the “boy jobs,” without waiting for a thank you—checking the oil in my car, carrying the heavy loads, fixing something broken around the house. He keeps track of my wallet and keys when I’ve misplaced them (again and again and again). It’s not about chores—it’s about the way he watches out for me, quietly making life smoother.

He’ll notice when I’ve had a long day and slip into super dad mode, making dinner or wrangling bath time so I can breathe. He shovels the stairs and driveway from snow before I even step outside, fills my gas tank so I never get stranded on empty, and makes sure the kids and I feel secure every day.

He remembers the little things I say in passing—like craving a certain sweet treat—and I’ll find it waiting for me days later, proof that he listens even when I don’t realize it.

He loves me by loving our kids fiercely—teaching them, playing with them, making them laugh. The way he fathers them is another way he loves me, because it tells me he’s all-in for this family we’re building.

All of it is love. Real, steady, humble love.

When I look at my life, I don’t see a collection of perfect moments. I see Adam’s love woven through every ordinary second: morning coffee, bear hugs, hot baths, full gas tanks, and a hundred small ways of saying, I choose you, I love you, I’m here for you, every single day.

And that—those little things—mean everything.