Cross-legged I sit, my mind filled with memories of nineteen years gone by. Who would have guessed the first time his soft, clammy hand met mine, that it would be the hand I would want to hold forever.
I can still see him..the first time we met...the first date...the terrified boy staring at me as I walked down the aisle of commitment. Children growing up alongside one another...trying to find our way...while raising children. We had no idea what we were doing but together we were determined. Life swept in with a vengeance. Pressures mounted. Emotions twisted into a whirlwind as tumultuous tongues whipped about, leaving us wounded and bloody. Doubts and fears overshadowed truth. I wondered often if we would make it. I still hear the viperous hissing of those that declared we wouldn't. God had a different plan. At times I've questioned His plan - His goodness. Maybe I married the wrong man? Perhaps if I had united with one more like myself...it wouldn't be so hard. Truth steps in and I remember - the paper, the glue, the lesson: When two are joined and they rip apart, both limp away fragmented. Both retaining shreds of each other despite their desire to be free from one another. At this I bow for more grace...more wisdom...more understanding. Different as we are it's easy for me to get caught up in how he does not measure up to MY expectations. Foolish expectations that I should only look to God for in the first place. When I stop for a moment to look deep into his heart - to understand - then I'm able to fully appreciate my gift and accept and delight in him for who he is.
Despite my love of words he will never be a man of many. It will be rare that he puts pen to paper and inks out eloquent expression. He is not interested in my chit-chat and will probably remain puzzled and a bit frustrated by my way of doing things. Yet he does write me love notes - his life pens them down in my memory. Threads of service woven through strands of time. Always the first to help out others in need. Thoughtful and kind. He will tear down walls, and on occasion build them just to make me smile. He tolerates my love for animals, lets my dog jump on the bed, fixes the car, makes me breakfast, protects and provides. He has earned his place as my best friend and been given my trust. My heart delights as I watch him play with thefive six seven gifts we've made. He knows my favorite part of an ice cream cone, understands that I eat all the toppings of my pizza before eating the crust and laughs at my quirky mannerisms and requests. Who else would buy me a rubber chicken or stuff ketchup packets in my purse when I'm not looking? He sees into my heart and knows who I am at my best and worst. Still - he loves me and is patient with my failures. It's his hands - time worn hands - calloused from labors of love that reach for mine in the black when I'm in need of comfort. It's his arms that fall around my waist with an assurance he will catch me if I fall.
Dead asleep his strong yet tender arms wrap around my frame. Lying still within the cotton it's these things I ponder. No other could do all of this - not like he does. This is how he loves. This is the story he writes upon my heart and the hearts of his children.
A boy turned man. A man I've grown to admire, respect, trust and lean upon. At the age of fifteen he stole my heart and will hold it forever. He is not perfect, but he is my gift from above and will always be my hero.
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=138243579541455&l=3416062177374650307
Until then...
Jessie
I can still see him..the first time we met...the first date...the terrified boy staring at me as I walked down the aisle of commitment. Children growing up alongside one another...trying to find our way...while raising children. We had no idea what we were doing but together we were determined. Life swept in with a vengeance. Pressures mounted. Emotions twisted into a whirlwind as tumultuous tongues whipped about, leaving us wounded and bloody. Doubts and fears overshadowed truth. I wondered often if we would make it. I still hear the viperous hissing of those that declared we wouldn't. God had a different plan. At times I've questioned His plan - His goodness. Maybe I married the wrong man? Perhaps if I had united with one more like myself...it wouldn't be so hard. Truth steps in and I remember - the paper, the glue, the lesson: When two are joined and they rip apart, both limp away fragmented. Both retaining shreds of each other despite their desire to be free from one another. At this I bow for more grace...more wisdom...more understanding. Different as we are it's easy for me to get caught up in how he does not measure up to MY expectations. Foolish expectations that I should only look to God for in the first place. When I stop for a moment to look deep into his heart - to understand - then I'm able to fully appreciate my gift and accept and delight in him for who he is.
Despite my love of words he will never be a man of many. It will be rare that he puts pen to paper and inks out eloquent expression. He is not interested in my chit-chat and will probably remain puzzled and a bit frustrated by my way of doing things. Yet he does write me love notes - his life pens them down in my memory. Threads of service woven through strands of time. Always the first to help out others in need. Thoughtful and kind. He will tear down walls, and on occasion build them just to make me smile. He tolerates my love for animals, lets my dog jump on the bed, fixes the car, makes me breakfast, protects and provides. He has earned his place as my best friend and been given my trust. My heart delights as I watch him play with the
Dead asleep his strong yet tender arms wrap around my frame. Lying still within the cotton it's these things I ponder. No other could do all of this - not like he does. This is how he loves. This is the story he writes upon my heart and the hearts of his children.
A boy turned man. A man I've grown to admire, respect, trust and lean upon. At the age of fifteen he stole my heart and will hold it forever. He is not perfect, but he is my gift from above and will always be my hero.
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=138243579541455&l=3416062177374650307
Until then...
Jessie
Okay I can be a bit girly, but I love it- the expression and love you two have. Once marred by idealism and continual selfish impulses like the rest of us and now as you are not blind by idealism you can truly love more deeply than before. A small picture of the great love God has for us: Romans 5:8 "but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us!" And I don't know how any can love without knowing and cherishing Christ.
ReplyDeletePraise be to God alone for your lives as testimonies of God's grace and love!
I still love the way you express your thoughts. I had to close my eyes thought on the skin on skin cotton part:) lol
you always express your feelings in such a raw and pure way...I love it! Todd is blessed to have you, and you him. If we could all love with such passion and abandonment...the world would be a better place. I wish you, my daughter, and my son in law, much love and happiness on your upcoming anniversary and always...love, mom
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