This week we had a cool night, the first in many months so I didn't stir my beloved at the normal hour but let him sleep a little longer as I brewed coffee and sliced fruit to serve with thick slices of peanut butter and banana smothered toast.
As I stirred my husband to wake and prepare for work that morning I could see he was more refreshed than usual. Our minds and bodies rest more deeply when sleeping through a night with windows wide open, especially when the gentle patter of rain rings a melody on the tin roof, but it's so rare an experience these days that this one cool wet night was appreciated more than I can say.
I made the bed while he showered and dressed, then set the dining table for breakfast, poured the coffee, sat...and waited. No husband.
Where was he? Breakfast is not leisurely on a weekday morning as he needs to be out the door and off to work on time and I'd already taken some of those precious minutes by leaving him to sleep a bit later.
Then a noise from under the house made me jump.
Down the back steps and around into the carport I found my beloved under the hood of my little yellow car. Knowing I planned to drive north of town and visit a friend that day, he wanted to check the oil, water and tyre pressure to assure himself the car wouldn't fail me, that I'd arrive safe and sound at my destination and return home again that afternoon. The noise I'd heard from the breakfast table was his air compressor inflating the car tyres as they were a bit low.
That's one of the many things I love about my husband.
He cares, and it's not so much in words but in the many acts of love he shows me each and every day. Love is a verb to him, an action, a response which shows the depth of care and concern and gratitude he feels towards me, his wife of twenty five years.
My beloved is not a man of gushing displays or eloquent speeches of heartfelt emotion, he's solid as a rock, dependable, and uncompromising in his devotion to our Lord and our marriage. Not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but a man who made an oath at the altar to love, honour and protect me as long as we both shall live and to this day endeavours to follow through.
I have learnt a lot from this imperfect man.
But mostly, having come from a family line littered with divorce, I have learnt about marital commitment.
How to walk through the valleys of life side by side, to help each other climb the many mountains of trial, to celebrate every victory and blessing, to trust God that as long as we allow Him to be the glue which binds our separate lives together as one, we will be okay.
I have learned not to give up, that there will be many seasons in a marriage but spring always returns, and if we sow generously with grace and mercy and forgiveness and kindness we will reap more love than our hearts can hold.
Marriage is more about giving than taking and my husband was the first example I ever saw of this.
Today I just wanted to share about him...to honour him, my dearly beloved.
Blessings,
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