Love is...

Valentine's Day.
The ultimate opportunity for comparisons and gauging the level of love in one's relationship.

Was the gift big enough?  Did it surprise?  Better than a friend's online or the next desk over?
Did they remember at all?   I'm sure many ended their night either on a high or low from whatever their loved one did or didn't do.

But that isn't love.

Love isn't symbolized by something you buy in a store.  Love isn't meant to only be expressed one day of the year.  Love is everything that the commercialized version of Valentine's Day is not.

Love is buying chocolates the day after because they taste better when half price.  And being frugal is sexy.

Love is flowers, just because, picked from the side of the road on a day you don't expect them.

Love is being content with a simple dinner at home and snuggling in pjs on the couch.

Love is coming home to an empty sink and freshly vacuumed floor after a long day at work.

Love is also hard.

Love is not giving up when things get tough.  Loving them even when they aren't lovable.  Love is forgiveness.

Love is a note tucked under a pillow or written in the fog on the mirror.

Love is letting you warm your feet on them under the covers on a cold night.

Love is lifting the other when they are weak.  Caring for them not only when they are sick but often when they're sad.  Love is being their safe place to fall.

Love is knowing all their flaws or failures and seeing the best parts above them all.  But love is pushing, encouraging and helping them be better too.

Love is saying "I do" every single day.

Love is rare.  Love is a gift.  Love is enough.

The Pause

There's a bend in a road I travel occasionally that takes me back to when Tim and I were first dating. Whenever I drive it, no matter the weather, I roll the windows down and remember what the breeze felt like all those years ago.  Riding on his motorcycle, my arms around his waist, nestled up to his strong back, there was a warm safety that continues to do this day.

Back then, young and full of dreams, I would envision our life together.  Thinking of our future always filled with me happiness and I couldn't wait to be his wife.  Being with him then, wind in my hair, our love felt carefree and that's how I imagined our marriage would be.

Twenty-some-odd years later, there has been much joy and days upon days of happiness, but there has also been loss and heartache, sickness and pain.  I don't know a marriage that doesn't have a mixture of it all.

Last Saturday night, I was stewing a bit and not feeling the hearts and butterflies of that young love.  Tim had been an absolute grump and was not my favorite person.  And even though I more than a little frustrated with him, I sat thinking about how often little hiccups like ours send some couples right apart.  Maybe it is because we've endured most of life's big ones, but I just don't understand how easy it is for marriages to simply end.  So often I see emotions dictate permanent decisions.  It saddens me to see others fall "out of love" faster than they fell in, as I don't know how that's possible.

Maybe I'm extra sappy from the week's experiences, but Tim is my person.  My best friend.  My soul mate.  And I can't imagine life without him.  

Almost exactly a week ago, I wrote about prayer.  Little did I know that God was preparing my heart for a storm.  While my mind was heavy with the needs of others, I neglected to see those of my husband.  

After over twenty years together, I should've seen his grumpiness last weekend for what it was.  My husband was not well.

I went to bed in tears Saturday for his attitude and awoke in tears for his safety.  Waking for church, I finally noticed signs that something wasn't right.  Struggling for nearly every breath, we locked eyes and he admitted what I saw.  Hearing him ask to go to doctor, while clutching his chest, is a snapshot in time I'd soon forget.  Though I remained calm, there were pieces of me breaking inside, as they

they took him back for tests in the ER.  

Sitting with my back to the same shared wall that I said goodbye to my son in eight years ago, I questioned my peace.  Was I dreaming?  Was I really back here?  For awhile, it was as if I had a foot in both places, remembering my screams that November night and quietly petitioning for Tim's healing in the room I now waited.

To date, we still don't have answers and he is still struggling.  We spent a long night in the hospital with every test coming back normal.  While I am grateful, it is hard to watch the love of your life hurting, uncertain, and not being able to do anything but pray.

As such, I've spent a lot of time at His feet this week.  

At one point in the hospital, my body so physically tired from watching over Tim and mind racing with prayers, I just mentally imagined myself there.  I didn't know what else to say, what other prayer to offer, so I simply said, "I'm here, Jesus....I'm here."

Often in this life, we don't get the answers we're looking for and sometimes we have to wait.  Neither are easy but I trust in His timing.  And I'm listening to what He's trying to teach me in the pause.  

Day 30: Pickin Peppers

A typical Friday night for me is watching hubby snooze in his chair and turning in shortly after Noah gets home from work.  Last night though found me rolling in after 2 am.  Or, I guess you'd say this morning.  Sounds like a wild and crazy night, huh?

The most excitement we saw was a baby deer in the median and laughing until we nearly peed ourselves.  My niece was broke down an hour away and texted for help, just as I was about to call it a night.  Of course my son was eager and ready to head to her but momma was uncomfortable with him driving that far that late at night.  So, on went my co-pilot hat.

Crawling into bed in the wee hours of the morning, I figured my plans to hit the Farmers Market were nixed.  And I've been really jonesing for some garden tomatoes.

I must've mumbled about it to hubby, as I drifted into coma-status.  The next thing I remember is sunshine, a dog on the bed, and Tim asking how many I wanted.  After a few moments of talking, this gal was wide awake so I decided to just go with him.

Once in the car, I notice Tim's sheepish grin, as he mutters "It worked."

Being together all these years, he knows that if you want me up, just get me talking.  Once I can carry a coherent conversation, it's impossible to fall back asleep.  And while he would've happily picked tomatoes for me, he knows I love to linger over fresh veggies.

Getting there early gave me a great selection and it didn't take long before my arms were weighed down with produce.  My favorite red "fruit" was of course included but I also gathered peaches, green beans, cucumbers and a variety of peppers.

Glancing into my bag of jalapenos, banana and bell peppers, I was taken back to early days when Tim and I were first married.  All I had to say was, "This was a much easier way to pick peppers," and instantly he was laughing.

this is just a random picture
and I do not know the parties involved
but it made me chuckle

Newly married and broke, we were always ready for an opportunity to make a little extra cash.  When a man offered us cash to pick buckets of peppers, we quickly said yes.  How hard could it be?

But peppers can't just be plucked, they need to be clipped, or the plant will break.  You must bend, stoop and squat in the hot sun to harvest them.  And with each plant your bucket gets heavier to lug to the next.  About two rows in, we realized this was harder labor than we expected but our eyes stayed on the prize of reaping loads of cash by day's end.

Yet hours later and backs bent into a permanent crook, we left with barely enough to buy our dinner.

We went home grumpy, vowing to never work for that farmer again, but it was a lesson learned on many levels and has served as a funny memory through the years.

Much like in marriage, you can't produce fruit without work and effort.  Some days are difficult and even bring pain.  After a few months in, you realize it is harder than you imagined.  Yet, if you wear gloves of gentleness and tend to it with love, you help each other with the heavy loads, and you saturate yourself in the SON, the rewards are great.  A bumper crop of happiness, friendship, companionship, passion, laughter, and family will fill more buckets than you can carry.

Thankful for a joyful Saturday shared with my garden partner for life.

Love is in the Air

The other night I caught view of the sweetest thing in my rear view mirror.

Noah and his girlfriend were snuggled together in the back seat.  We were returning home close to midnight, after a few delays and setbacks amid their date night.  They were cold from waiting on us and she was nestled under his arm asleep.  As I glanced back, Noah bent down and gently kissed the top of her head.

My heart melted but I didn't say a word.  It was such a loving gesture.  Even for a mom who isn't normally a fan of teen PDA, especially when one of them is your baby.

When he first started dating we were very strict with the "hangman policy," in that based on age, he would receive certain acceptable zones to show affection to a girl.  More than anything we wanted him to be respectful, both to her and our wishes.

Aside from many conversations about how he should treat someone he dates, my hope is that our marriage and relationship have been a living example.  We've been given a daily opportunity to share lessons in love by how we treat each other.

Certainly we've made mistakes.  But my prayer is the good has outweighed the bad.  And he sees that regardless of our errors we keep on loving.

I hope he sees that love never quits.

Love is praying together

the last slice of pie

laundry done without asking

hidden notes just because

time together doing nothing at all

still holding hands, decades later

sweet surprises

giving your best, even when you're getting their worst

the first cup of coffee

forgiveness

saying 'I love you' without saying a word

foot rubs

a piece of your heart beating in someone else

your best friend

a gift from God

Wishing you the happiest of heart's days!

Faithful Friday: 21 on 21

Twenty one years ago on June 21st, Tim and I said, "I do."

Every anniversary I look back and think about how far we've come and how long we've been together.  In some ways, it seems unreal; but mostly it feels perfectly right.  Like this is how it has always been - and should be.

After so many years, we are comfortable, though our marriage is anything but a boring routine.

Instead, we just fit.

Tim begins my day every morning, as I kiss him goodbye.  His random "I love you" texts bring a smile to me while we're apart.  In the evening, seeing his reflection in the microwave, as he enters the house, settles well within my bones.  When we are together, all is good in the world.  And at night. when we curl and nestle into each other at night's end, I'm in my most favorite place of all.

Twenty one years and he still makes my heart flutter.

To say every year has been rosy would not be true.  Yes, we've had ups and downs just like any couple. We've had storms that would crush many marriages.  And some days we've both been hard to love.

The glue that has held us together has only come from one source...

 

Even though God hasn't always been priority in our marriage, He has been in the midst of it.  

And even when we haven't been, He has always remained faithful.  

Thankfully, He's granted us a lot of mercy and grace.

Which, to be honest, are the two key ingredients to any successful marriage.

When those two youthful faces joined hands and promised our futures in that small country church, 

neither of us could guess the roads the next 21 years would take us.

Some of those journeys were blessed, some more difficult than we could ever imagine.

Many travels were every day frustrating, most others every day ordinary.

No matter the roads we've ventured, we went them together, with grace, and with God.

Looking forward to 21 more...

and wherever life may take us.

Book Review: Wife After God

God most certainly had heavy intentions for me to spend time this year in prayer for my husband.  It began around November and the theme has carried through ever since.  Going in, I certainly didn't expect him to need to be so padded in my prayers, but I'm so thankful God led me there.

It was no surprise to me when I found out last week that I'd been selected to review another devotional about - you guessed it - praying for your husband/marriage/etc.

I've had the privilege this week to peruse through "Wife After God," by Jennifer Smith.  I cannot wait to actually take the time to give it 30 full days and dig in even deeper.

"This devotional study was prayerfully composed with 30 days of biblical concepts and practical challenges to help you nourish your relationship with God and your relationship with your husband in marriage into ones that are captivating, intimate and extraordinary. Every day you will be presented with a biblical topic to help draw your nearer to your God and your husband."

You can get your copy here.

In my words?
This book is a simple, easy to read, devotion that takes you on a journey.  No matter what stage your marriage is in, there is something to be gained by taking these scriptures and message to heart and to practice.  I have no doubt that God puts this book into the hands of those whose marriage or husband needs it.  So, if you're reading this....simply scroll up a paragraph, click the link, get the book, and soak up the spiritual gifts He is sending your way!

What does it take from you?

30 days.
A Bible.
A journal...notebook....or the back pages of your kid's homework.
Commitment and an open, prayerful mind.

Each day opens in scripture, a message or story, questions to ponder, and the part I liked best about the book - a challenge.

Being the competitive person I am, put the word challenge in front of something and I am motivated to do it.  The great part of these challenges though is that there will always be two winners - you and your hubby.

What I've learned on my journey of praying more consistently and focused for my husband is that it doesn't just benefit him.  It draws me closer to God, which makes me a person, mom, and wife.

Sunday Sneak Away

Did you enjoy our Valentine's weekend? 

I hope it was filled with reminders that you are special, cared for, loved.  Mine was, even though it was also very, very busy.

When you're married with teenagers, finding time for just the two of you isn't always an easy task.  And we've found through the years that survival comes to those who either schedule regular dates or take advantage of impromptu pockets of time. 

Our weekend was filled with basketball games, grocery shopping, laundry (ugh) and all the normal activities that makes you feel like you've blinked and it's Monday again.  As such, finding quality couple time seemed unlikely. 

Originally, we had thought of sneaking away this weekend but my body took a "trip" instead.  I knew my injuries would prohibit much joy so, as we do, we went with plan B. 

Or maybe C? 

We opted for a Sunday morning mini date and set the alarm a wee bit earlier to make it to early service at church. Since Tim's niece and nephew have been regularly attending, I knew they'd be able to take the kids home after Sunday school and regular service.

So we were off on our date at 10:30 in the morning yesterday.  And it was wonderful.

A little sunshine.  A little brunch.  A little shopping.  And a lot of LOVE.

 

After 20+ years together, it doesn't take much to make this girl happy, as long as she's holding the hand of the one who still makes her heart skip a beat.

 

Joyful wishes to you this week! 

Faithful Friday: Fairy Tales

Marriage isn't the "Happily Ever After" fairy tale versions we read from story books as little girls.  It doesn't end with "I do" and a kiss.

Marriage is hard work and it's something you "do" every. single. day.

And marriage doesn't survive unless it involves a third party.
Without God, happily ever after isn't possible.

This is what I wish was in the small print after every romantic book or movie.  That for every little girl, teen, young woman out there waiting for her Prince Charming, she would know there is so much more to the story.

Last night the kids were begging to escape the house.  After five days off from school, they had cabin fever in a very bad way.  Initially, I'd planned for a family night out, but when my hubby arrived home, tired was written all over his face.

Old man Winter hasn't been kind to his healing foot.  Hobbling around in a boot is hard enough but when you add snow and ice, it makes the trek much more difficult.  He awoke to so much pain yesterday morning that we'd feared he had a stress fracture.  After a quick visit to his ortho, we're hopeful it is just inflammation.  I know my knee has thrown fits feeling this latest snow storm's arrival.  (gee, when did we get so old!?)

Anyway, I could tell without him saying a word that all he really wanted was to kick back by the fire, prop his aching foot up, and relax into the weekend.  So, we compromised.  The kids and I headed out to pick up Chinese and we ate picnic style in the living room floor.

Compromise.  Give and take.  Flexibility. All things a marriage needs to be successful.
And selflessness.

We had this discussion on the way home, because Tim had offered at first to go with us, so we could enjoy the buffet.  He then offered for the three of us to stay at he buffet and just bring him a plate home.  Of course none of us felt right doing that and were fine fixing four plates to go.  But it was sweet of Tim to offer.  And so him, it is just in his nature to give freely.  His selflessness is the quality in him I most admire.

My niece commented, "How did you find him?"

I let this soak into my bones for a bit.

She added, "He's just so good.  There aren't many guys like him in this world."

Yes, I am a lucky gal.

"God sent him to me," I responded a little teary.

It touched me that she saw his qualities, his character, his love for me.  I breathed a prayer that this example would continue to resonate with her.
The good ones are worth waiting for, sweetie.

But later, I mulled it over, thinking back over our marriage.  Looking in at us now, it would be simple to say, "Why can't our marriage be that easy, they have it so good."  And while that is true, God has blessed us beyond measure, it hasn't always been easy.

Just as with any marriage that has survived, we've weathered our share of storms.  There've been highs and lows, some lows so unimaginable the only answer I have to our sustenance is that God has held us together.

God's the fairy tale factor.  

The closer we've grown to Him over the years, the stronger our marriage has become.   When we've pushed him out of our marriage, or not focused on Him as the foundation, it was weakened and we've suffered.

 "A cord of three strands is not quickly broken" is so true.  (Ecc 4:12)

That's what I want to tell every other young girl longing and waiting for her happily ever after.  "I do" is just the beginning.  But for each chapter of your marital life to be filled with bliss, it must be full of God. He's the one who can write your love story with a happy ending.

Give God your heart, little girl, he'll lead you the man deserving enough to share it...someday.

 “A woman's heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek Him just to find her.”

 ― Max Lucado

Faithful Friday: Platinum Love

To have and to hold...

20 years.  I look at the fresh, young faces from our wedding day and it seems so much longer than just two decades ago.  And then again, it seems like only yesterday we were nervously saying, "I do."

We've certainly packed many moments and memories into that time.  Through it all what has held us together and made us stronger was holding onto not just to each other, but also to God.

"Love comes from God..."  1 John 4:7

Knowing that today, our actual anniversary, would be the kids' first day back from camp, we celebrated early.  While they were away, we snuck off for a few days at the lake.  And it was blissful.

"Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away...."

Song of Solomon 8:7

 
Amazing weather for June, with only one somewhat humid day.  Sparkling smooth waters.  Not good fishing, but we made the most of the peaceful quiet on the lake.  Being there during the week nearly gave us our own private oasis. 

 

It gave us time to talk and just be. 

Lots of wildlife watching, including a family of ducks we somewhat adopted during our stay.  Wherever they were on the lake, if they caught a glimpse of us, they'd quickly waddle over, knowing their new friends would have a cracker snack to share.    

Of course, not all the wildlife watching was this peaceful.  Most people who know me know that I don't like snakes.  To say I'm terrified of them is an understatement.  I think even Tim forgot how terrified I was...until this trip.  As I'm lazily basking in the sun, deep into my thick book with the waves gently rocking the boat, I somewhat notice Tim pulling up anchors.  Not giving it much thought, as I figured he had probably grown tired of yet another "no bite zone," I almost ignored his sentence.

"Heather, don't look behind you."

After twenty years, not many words are necessary in our relationship.  Often times we read each other's thoughts, finish their sentences.  There was something about his tone that made me look up and into his eyes.  Those eyes told the rest of the sentence he didn't want to say aloud.

Thinking that not saying the word would keep me calmer was not exactly working out as he'd planned.  (Insert mental breakdown here)

For what seemed to be an eternity, but was probably mere minutes, I fell into the boat, in a futile attempt to flee my spot.  In my mind, the said (snake) was making his way into the boat, surely ready to attack me at any moment.  In a crumbled mess at the bottom of the boat, arms and limbs scattered up under and around seats and fishing gear, I sobbed and screamed incomprehensibly.  Meanwhile, Tim - my calm constant - was focused on getting me out of the reptile zone. 

Though it was not funny at the time, even retelling the story to the kids last night found me back in tears, we did joke about it during the rest of our trip and I can chuckle (in the safety of my living room) as I type today.

 

In fact, that laughter is probably one of the top reasons I love Tim and our relationship.  Any marriage will be filled with a mixture of good times and bad. 

Ours has had more than our share of bad but the good patches up those holes.  Laughter heals.

And it wouldn't be fair to share only my funny story from our anniversary trip. 

Walking down the hall one afternoon, I heard Tim spitting and gagging into the sink.  Knowing he was brushing his teeth, I wondered what was causing such a reaction.  Again with no words, it hit me.  And I began laughing hysterically and uncontrollably.  I laughed so much my bruised body ached.  I laughed so hard that Tim thought I'd planned the mishap.  But I honestly didn't.

Looking back, it probably wasn't the best placement for my small tube of sunscreen I used for my face.  Yes, the tube was the same size as the toothpaste and being right beside each other... well, you can imagine what happened next.

 

Love you, honey.  Thank you for making me laugh for 20 years.

Here's to 20 more...

 

"A cheerful heart is good medicine..." Proverbs 17:22

Faithful Friday: Everyday Joyful Moments

Maybe it's the emotions of Mother's Day upcoming...
Or, the sad recent news of several friends receiving cancer diagnoses...
Or just the acute knowledge of what a gift every single day is with those you love...

Whatever it is, I've soaked up the blessings of everyday moments this week, grateful within the experience and later still upon reflection. 

This past weekend we spent a rainy Saturday working on a school project.  Something I've missed doing with Noah, now that he's a teen in middle school.  A couple years ago, projects were sometimes a weekly activity, and thinking back, I don't know that I always enjoyed every one at the time. 
As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Elbow deep in sticky, melting marshmallows, Noah and I soon remembered why we don't often make Rice Crispy treats.  After about the 400th stir, he exclaimed, "Who needs to work out at the gym?  Just make these things!"

Tim walked through the kitchen at one point, as we were both stuck to wads of soon to be planets trying to mold them, and not suffer second degree burns at the speed of light, before the gooey bits of cereal permanently glued to the pan.  He glanced back and forth between us and the mess, shook his head, and exited quickly. 

What Tim didn't realize was how he missed out on the mini science experiment, as we worked to concoct matching colors for each of the planets.  Sneaking fingers into the frosting for a lick in between our painting.  Limitless giggles and jokes.  And watching Noah repeat, "My Very Eager Mother Just Served Us Nachos" a couple dozen times to ensure he had them glued into the right order.  It was a fun afternoon and I'm thankful he still appreciates and wants Mom's assistance.

Monday I dropped in on my Grandma with a double surprise: 

#1 - Me in the middle of the afternoon, #2 - a giant red velvet cupcake to celebrate her birthday a day late.  A pot of coffee and a belly full of sugar and laughs later, I left misty eyed and grateful for the simple moments with one of the most influential women in my life. 

Tuesday on the way home from picking up Tina from an after school activity, we began to chat, as we often do.  Our chat moved more to a serious conversation though and I regretted we were so close to home.  What I loved is that after pulling into the driveway, neither of us stopped.  We just kept talking, bonding, sharing...until we were done.  Twenty minutes later as we walked in the house, Tina remarked how surprised she was at the length of time we'd been outside.  It blesses my heart to think of how much healing, progress, and transformation we've made since she's come into our home.  Oh, the changes we've seen the past two years.

Last night, after our devotion, though few words were said volumes were spoken.  Praying for a couple who is facing uncertain days because of a serious diagnosis, Tim and I were painfully aware of what a gift from God our marriage is. 

We know how fragile life is, how normal can change in an instant.  Though silent, our hold shared how thankful we both were for the other.  It was powerful, tangible, and I fell asleep in the midst of ceaseless prayers for my husband, our marriage, and our future.

Everyday, yet anything but ordinary...these precious relationships I treasure so.

Every time we think of you, we thank God for you. 

1 Thessalonians 1:2

Holding onto Hope

There was the smallest of gestures in our pew today that almost brought me to tears.  Noah grabbed my hand, then his dad's, and connected our three hands on his lap.  In an instant I was brought back nearly four years, to the beginning of our grief journey, shortly after losing Austin.

It was something Noah did often then; grab both his parents hands and force us to lock, placing his between and around.  Solidity.  Strength.  A Family Bond.

Tim and I didn't necessarily drift apart in the loss, and in many ways it brought us closer, but there were walls, rawness, tangible pain.  In the beginning all of us walked on an endless road of eggshells, never quite knowing where to land, wondering if a misstep would cause us all to fall.  Though we tried to put on a good front, even a child of eight could sense the weakness.

In every opportunity he could, Noah pushed us together.  Silently, but the unspoken need shouted to us.  STAY TOGETHER.  BE STRONG.  LOVE ONE ANOTHER.  Once easily grossed out at signs of affection, he worked then to cause them.  Looking back now, I can see he was just trying to hold on to what was left of our family.

There's a statistic I read more than once while pouring over books on grief and spiritual help.  The divorce rate for parents of child loss is staggeringly high.  It scared me because I could see how easily one could just throw it in, give up, walk away.  When life as you knew and loved it ceased to exist and crumble around you, would you be strong enough to piece it back together?  Crazily it's something I recall even as far back as the night Austin passed.

Tim and I were at his side in the ER, chaos swirling, my heart pleading for time to just stop.  It was over and the room was cleared except for us.  Our sweet boy, hair of jet black, seemingly sleeping beside us. Our firstborn was gone and pieces of me would forever go with him.  My world was slipping, beyond my control.  I grabbed Tim up, placing my hands on his either side of his face, locking eyes.  We were close enough to kiss - and I'm not sure why I needed him in that position - but I needed our eyes to connect, our souls to listen. 

"This cannot break us."

Silence was deafening.  I will never forget that deep, sorrowful pain in my husband's eyes. 

"Tim, this cannot break us.  Promise me," I repeated, knowing the simple word of promise would speak volumes to him.  He nodded.  We sobbed into each other, time no longer a concern.  Letting go and holding on. 

The past three and a half years have been a rollercoaster, filled with days of uncertaintity, tears, prayers, and hope.  The constant has been that the three of us have never given up.  Even on days we maybe wanted to. We've held on to each other - and to God.

What's amazing to me is the role Noah has intentionally played.  So many days I pulled myself up and on - for him.  Never would I have imagined though the work he would do, like the soft gesture of placing our hands together all those days ago in the pew.

That symbol today, of a family united, was a breathtaking moment, an unplanned trip through tortured memories, and a sign of how far we've come.  While we'll forever have a hole from Austin's leaving, the gap is continually filled with our family's and our Father's love.

Faithful Friday: Love Never Fails

An annual anniversary tradition, the black videotape was dusted off last night so we could relive our wedding.  Watching those fresh, young faces so full of nervous love, I wondered if we realized the depth of the vows recited to each other.

I remember having a conversation about it, because I chose to remove the word obey from our ceremony.  It just didn't convey the partnership that we had.  In fact, we chose to go another non-traditional route, having Tim meet me halfway down the aisle.  I joined him and walked together, symbolizing that we would always meet each other halfway in our marriage.

Listening to those soft and youthful voices, I caught a verse that I didn't really remember from our wedding.

"Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God."
-Ruth 1:16

I don't recall selecting this verse, so it was more than likely the preacher, but I felt it fit our relationship perfectly.  Tim married a stubbornly independent, opinionated girl but, through love and patience, we've both learned to bend and move as needed.  Two became one.

We've gone places in our marriage we never expected - good and bad.  Nineteen years later, neither of us sleeps well or is happy when we're apart.  I want to stay wherever Tim is.  Though we both brought an eclectic group of wacky family members to our marriage, we've accepted them all with open arms.  I'm sure we didn't truly consider the symbolism of each of us hugging the other mother and handing her a rose all those years ago, but it's how we've remained.  And God has been the foundation on which our marriage was built, has rested, and continues to be held.  He is most certainly our glue.

Prior to our video viewing, we were treated to a dinner under the stars at a quaint little table that was mere steps from our doorway.  Our back deck once again became Blair's Bistro, but a welcome surprise was that we were waited on by our sweet boy.  I don't know many twelve year old boys who willing would want to participate in an evening of romance.  Most would run screaming the other direction.  But our Noah never ceases to amaze us and the manners, service and loving touches he added made the night extra special.

Although I cooked our meal, once my chef hat was removed, I was whisked away to a reserved seat outside.  "Ma'am what would you like to drink tonight?" I was asked.  Moments later a chilled diet Dr. Pepper in our fanciest glass appeared at my side.  As if practiced for weeks, candles were lit, cloth napkins (aka dish towels) were placed on our laps, and soft music filled the air. 

We were then informed of the solo special that was promptly served to us, velvety ribbons of pasta in a cream sauce with jumbo shrimp and a side of crusty garlic bread.

In perfect timing, our dessert menu was later produced, with a choice of elegant cupcakes.  I was tickled that he took an extra step to place them in glass serving bowls.

We were able to take that photo because this restaurant allowed us to "rent" a camera to capture the evening.  Our waiter was even kind enough to take a few memento shots for us.  He then politely instructed us to retire to the theatre for a video and surprise.  After watching our wedding, we were handed two Wii remotes as the tune from Super Mario played in the background.  Recreating our first kiss, we giggled like teens in love, challenging each other to a game.

What a beautiful, blessed anniversary it was.

And I'm looking forward to each and every one to come.



Faithful Friday: Actions & Words

The phrase "actions speak louder than words" can be hard to swallow for a writer.  I happen to think words can be pretty powerful, but I get the point.  When I hear this, I think of the person who is all talk and no action.  Someone who may be well-spoken and seems to always know what to say but never follows through.  And, I'm sure we all know someone we love who is like this too. 

Each time we're failed by them, their words seem to flow in just the right way, to say all the things we want to hear, but in the end they still can't deliver.  For someone who puts a lot of weight on promises, people like that don't sit well with me.  It kind of explains the other phrase, "I'll believe it when I see it."

Luckily, I do not have this type of relationship with my husband.  I know if he promises me something, he's committed - big or small.  And I know I can always trust him to be honest with me - good or bad.  Of course, it doesn't count when his memory fails him, like forgetting to bring home toilet paper!  Over the years, I've just learned where reminders are necessary and use them as needed.

I've been on a high all week from a small but very meaningful "action" Tim did for me.  This was, of course, Valentine's week, a time when many women pine for large bouquets of roses or boxes of chocolates.  That's not me and Tim knows that.  He knows I'd rather have fresh cut flowers than any other type; and I prefer them for no reason at all, not because a major holiday indicates a purchase.  Although I'd never turn down chocolate, I'd be just as happy knowing he waited until after the holiday to catch them 1/2 off.  He knows my love language is quality time, not gifts, and so we've had plans all month for a date this weekend.

So, that's all I expected.  Nothing more.  He'd already surprised me the week prior with a gift card on my pillow for a facial.  He gave it to me before Valentine's so I couldn't use the "no gifts" rule we'd agreed to.  Plus, he said, he wanted me to get pampered on my time, not the spa's.  (Btw...it was amazing - big brownie points he earned there!)  Because of this illegal gift, I truly expected nothing on the big day.   And on V-day, nothing came.  Just as expected.  Which, I was completely ok with.

The next morning, I walked into the kitchen to find an envelope on the table.  I have to admit I was a little grumpy sitting down, as Tim had let me sleep in, but Noah was insistent on me helping with his hair and seeing them off to school.  Since I had to get up soon anyway, I obliged.  Seeing the card on the table, I chuckled, thinking maybe Tim forgot to give it to me yesterday or was again bending the rules by not actually giving me anything on that day.  Instead, I found a sweet message (yes, there were words) but it was his actions and the thought that made it so special.

It said, "This card is late for a reason.  I love you every day, not just on Valentine's."  And I read it, admittedly teary-eyed, because it was so unexpected.  The card wouldn't have had half the impact if he'd given it hours earlier.  He planned it that way and that action meant the world to me.  I've found myself opening it, not just for the catchy tune inside, but to read again the simple but heart-felt message all week.

In the end, I'm not sure I've done a good job relating this Friday's scripture with my story but I did have a point and a purpose.  I guess in the end that one sentence, though used with words, had such meaning because I knew the truth behind them and because of the way he showed it. 

“Let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth”
- 1 John 3:18

Ponder on that this week....  How can you show those you love them without words?  What actions can you do that speak volumes?

PS - If you read Tuesday's post, you may have been curious about what surprise I'd planned for Tim on Tuesday.  Honoring the no gift rule, I had a message sent to him showing him my love.

In this case, a picture speaks a thousand words.....

Kicked out of Bed

Last night was a first.  I kicked Tim out of the bed.  Well, actually I pushed him out.  In the middle of the night.  In all our years together, we've never slept apart while under the same roof.  Even when I was confined to a hospital bed, he slept on the couch beside me.  He refused to sleep in our bed without me.  He may have changed his mind after last night.  In fact, I may find myself sleeping on the couch!

The night before a pain in my back woke me from my sleep.  I tossed, I turned, in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, but it remained.  The pain was there to greet me yesterday morning and, being the good friend it was, stayed throughout the day.  By the afternoon I was at the chiropractor, hoping for much needed relief.  When I left the pain was reduced but still present.

Coming home, I tried the recliner, ice, stretches and being very, very still.  Defeated, I opted for the bed.  Unfortunately there wasn't a flat position of comfort either.  When Tim arrived home, he talked me into taking a pain pill.  Truly, at that point no twisting of my arm was necessary.  I just needed to know he was home to care for the kids once I conked out. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, I decided to reposition myself and was attempting to use him as a brace.  This coincided with him sitting on the side of the bed.  I'm not sure if he was about to leave or returning from the restroom but his plans were quickly changed.  With what I'm sure he'd describe as a hefty push, he was flying off the side and landing with a solid THUMP! on the floor.  Our responses were not equal.

With a grumpy, still half asleep raise of his voice, he questioned what on earth I was doing.  I answered with uproarious laughter.  Sensing that he didn't find the humor and afraid I'd wake myself fully, I muffled it.  When the alarm sounded hours later I was reminded of the event and let the laughter return.  In fact, I laughed until I cried.  Until I was gasping for air.  Until I started coughing.  Until I was laughing because I was laughing.  Uncontrollable, belly shaking, side splitting, tears streaming laughter.  Oddly, he still didn't join me with the same gusto.  But secretly, underneath his sore behind, I know he chuckled inside!

Big Comfy Bed

I think just about everyone loves their bed. Often a comment you'll hear someone say when they've been traveling is, "I can't wait to get home to my own bed!" There's just something comfortable and relaxing when you melt into in it at the end of the day.

And I have to agree. I do love my bed. Whether it is crisp, cool sheets on a hot summer night with a breeze blowing through the windows, or the toasty warmth of flannel sheets in the winter, I adore the feeling when you plunge between the layers.  All the stress and worries of the day, just wash away as your head is cradled by pillows and the blankets cocoon your soul.  It is just an "Ahhhhh" moment that I look forward to each evening.  And now that cooler weather is upon us, my big fluffly down comforter has returned, which makes the plunge all that dreamier!

Perhaps I love mine so much because I know what it is like not to be able to sleep in it. For months after our motorcycle wreck, I lived in a hospital bed.  Staying a few nights in a hospital bed is uncomfortable enough, but when you're forced into for over three, it really takes a toll on a body.  Of course, my darling husband did make it more tolerable, since he slept right next to me on the couch.  His devotion each night, vowing not to go back to our bed without me, is what got me through the next day.

I returned to the bed earlier than my body was ready, remembering how painful it was just to turn on my side.  But that pain was worth it, for it meant I could be held by my husband.  Even now, it's how we fall asleep and how I find us whenever we awake.  It's automatic, a movement we make in unison, even if one is sleeping when the other moves or turns.  No matter the position, we are touching and connected. 

Although the mattress is supportive, the blankets soft and warm, and the sheets smooth and inviting, they aren't at all what makes my bed so comfortable.  It's the love of my life who is beside me each night, as we hold hands to pray, and the first person I see when I open my eyes every morning. 

Earlier this week, I heard a beautiful story of a couple.  Married 72 years, they died one hour apart, holding hands.  I can only hope for such a long life with Tim and an ending so precious.  However, no matter how many days or moments we have together, I'll treasure every sunrise I see on his face and thank God for him each evening...from our big comfy bed.