My husband recently turned thirty-five. I thought that was a significant number so I asked him if he was where he thought he'd be at thirty-five. With a little smile he said, "That depends......I mean, I was supposed to be wrapping up my big league career....fishing from my cabin in the woods....just sitting on my millions......"
"Aww man, all you've got is me and these kids" We laughed.
I don't really write all that much about my husband because my days are more about kids. But my husband-he is extraordinary.
He is smart......went to Stanford smart.....could be competitive on Jeopardy smart. So smart people totally believe him even when he's spewing "facts" that he actually just made up. So smart that I can trust him completely with all the big decisions. I love that.
He has quiet confidence. And a fantastic smile. He is ruggedly handsome. He always compliments and says thank you for dinner. Even if it sounds like, "I think it's great. Maybe just a little less salt next time. But really-it's great babe."
He sings out loud at church. Terribly. But he does it.
He speaks my language. He holds my hand anytime we're in the car together. If you've ever read The Five Love Languages we have the same dominant language-physical touch. Growing up my mom would say, "Give me a love" which meant to give her a hug or kiss, I assume it's one reason I equate physical touch with love. It's easy to feel loved when you speak the same language.
He just gets me. Though my usual love language is physical touch I went through a period where I didn't even want him to hold my hand. When the babies were tiny I felt like I literally had someone else's skin against mine all day long. When I finally got the kids to bed, or sat in the car with all the kids strapped in the last thing I wanted was someone to touch me. He got it and let me be until I came around.
He encourages me to sleep in as he heads out to work. Often I do, and he doesn't resent me for it.
He works very hard and even better-he recognizes that I do too. He adores our children but he would lose his mind taking care of them for any length of time. It's a job for which he isn't designed and he makes sure I know my value.
He has a very forgiving nature. He never yells at me.....even when I can tell he wants to. That is his greatest gift to me. See, I'm not an arguer. I'm awful at it. In confrontation I just shut down, crawl into myself like a little hermit crab. I wish I could say that I am strong, a fighter-I'm not. He gets upset with me, but he never yells at me. From what I know, it's not in Matt's nature to get all worked up anyway, but it is a gift to me and I'm grateful every day.
When I consider the fruits of the spirit (love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control) I see them all in him. I'm so grateful that our children will have such an example and that I share a life with someone I admire.
See how he was holding my dress? He's always making sure I'm taken care of......
He isn't perfect, but he fits me just right.
Love.
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