Thursday, August 21, 2014

An Ode to my Husband

When my husband told me this song made him think of me, I bled a little closer.

And the only words I heard...the words that made me bleed, as him thinking of me...were these:

"Cause all of me loves all of you... loves...All YOUR EDGES..."

I agreed because I'm a brickload of edges. 
I know myself.
I'm the quirky one. The one who treads lightly. Moves slowly. Snaps quick and blunt.
But I knew that couldn't possibly be all he meant. So I listened a little closer to the lyrics.
And I heard what he was trying to say.
There's curves between those edges.
* * * * *

We always think of our faults...don't we?...our flaws...our sins...our crutches...our edges.

It leaves us weak and vulnerable and broken. It leaves us guarded and wanting. It leaves us cautious and clueless.

Clueless that our loved ones see the curves despite the edges.

There are days that amaze me that he still listens to me.
 After 28 years and 31 year together.
 That he loves me the way he does...even those jagged edges.

That he sees my imperfections perfectly and raises them up instead of tearing them down.

That, after 28 years, he can still make me laugh...irritatingly so...but still...

And the ways he cares for us and provides for us.

He went to work sick yesterday. Sick.
That is not a sign of weakness.

And the way he loves our children is, by far, my greatest reward.
It is said:

He gives unselfishly in the way he shows love for me and love for our children.
Even in discipline.
Especially in discipline.
Most especially in discipline.

Especially those girls...ah, those girls...who need their daddy to show them love and compassion and protection of a greater Father.

 And those sons who need someone to show them strength and compassion, in separate palms yet meeting in the middle.
So they can know how to love and listen well to their brides.

And, OH MY! the way he loves our grandsons!

A husband who heroically prays for his family and a hurting lost humanity is probably the thing I love the most about him.

And the way he has no qualms about showing his feelings and heart to family members and friends.
He's a big man with an even bigger heart.

I'm the quirky one. The one who treads lightly. Moves slowly. Snaps quick and blunt.
He has claimed to admire my intellect and my independence and the way I shore up during times of crisis.
I guess he loves my self-confidence of who I am and my practical, no-nonsense synergy when it comes to caring for our family.

I don't know. I'm just guessing.

I see my flaws. Repeatedly.
I fight my sins. Daily.
 I cut others with my edges. Sorrowfully.

That he sees my faults and edges and loves me anyway means what I knew the first time he looked at me and smiled.

God had answered all my prayers.


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