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With two decades of marriage to my husband, Rich, under my belt, I've experienced my share of moments when I've decided I couldn't live with him. They've usually occurred after we've argued about something or when my hormones have been on full battle alert. Rich and I have struggled through the challenges of raising teenagers, battled cancer together, survived job stresses, a layoff, and a tumultuous relocation that didn't pan out. Over the years, tensions have run high as we've had to grit our teeth and hold tight to that commitment we made before God and our friends and family many years ago. We've been childish, selfish, and have both said things we regret. We each entered into our union with unique baggage and unrealistic expectations of each other that still crop up even after years of loving and living together.

Yet even during those moments when I'm tempted to mutter, "I can't live with him," I know I'd marry Rich again in a heartbeat. Here are five reasons why I love being married.

While my husband certainly can't read my mind, he does know how to read my body language. He knows that particular glance we use at social functions that says, I'm ready to leave—now! He recognizes the phrase we always use to break the ice after an argument: "Do you love me anyway?" Together Rich and I have coined the funny nicknames we've used for ourselves, our kids, even our dog. We have private jokes that crack us—and only us—up. These demonstrate one way we've become one flesh (Genesis 2:24). After all, part of what binds you together are the unique looks, gestures, phrases, and memories that become part of your marriage's DNA.

It's hard to find someone in this world who gets you. But that's one of the great things about marriage. It means you can enjoy the privileges of a club of which you and your spouse are the only members. No other human being knows better what I like, what I worry about, what I cry or laugh over, than my husband—and vice versa.

Remember that Doublemint chewing gum ad with the slogan, "Double your pleasure, double your fun"? I've learned that my spouse's passions and hobbies can expand the scope of my interests and double my fun.

For instance, last weekend Rich and I took a spin to one of our favorite local destinations: Illinois's Starved Rock State Park. But we didn't get there by car. Oh, no—we went dressed in black leather, riding on our motorcycle.

If you'd asked me six years ago if I ever envisioned myself a "biker babe," I'd have scoffed at the possibility. But then Rich purchased a motorcycle five years ago to celebrate the end of his radiation therapy. I knew this was something he enjoyed and, while I was nervous at first (the phrase "road pizza" ran through my mind), I hopped on the back, clutching my husband for dear life. As we gained more experience, my inhibitions retreated, and now I'm having a blast. Would I have hopped on a bike on my own? Never. It was only because of Rich's newfound love of biking—and my choice to sidestep my innate timidity.

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