Today's post is an open letter to my husband John.
"Love never asks how much must I do, but how much can I do."
~ Frederick A. Agar
Rejoice with the wife of your youth...
And always be enraptured with her love.
~ Proverbs 5:18-19 (NKJV)
Speak the things which are proper ... the older women likewise, that they be reverent in behavior, not slanderers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things—that they admonish the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be blasphemed.
~ Titus 2:1-5 (NKJV)
Dear John ~
Though your birthday's a month away, I've never been good at holding on to gifts. You see me always shopping for birthday and Christmas gifts at the very last minute, because whatever I buy in advance finds another reason for me to present it. So I'm writing to you now, since there's no way I can hold these words a whole month.
First of all, thanks for the flowers, babe. It's a lovely thing for a woman to receive flowers on her birthday or Valentine's Day or wedding anniversary. But when you simply see the flowers next to me and can't resist buying them, that means even more than when you do it because you have an excuse. The roses are a beautiful reminder that you love me in spite of myself.
Thanks for reading my blog. I'll have a smile plastered all over my face when you wake up this morning, wondering what your reaction will be at that opening line and your photo. I'm truly blessed that despite you having about as much love for writing as I have for guns (though each of us values them both), you support me and let me keep the crazy hours I do to nourish my soul this way.
I could go on and on thanking you. Thanks for being so loving with our kids, even when they make you crazy. Thanks for being committed to the homeschooling that I love us doing. Thanks for having a reputation at work for being faithful to your wife, and for being the kind of guy to earn the nickname "Saint John." Thanks for putting in all the hours at a horrible job with ... ornery people, to care so well for our family. Thanks for letting us spend the money on all the kids' lessons instead of the bigger house we woefully need or the vacation you'd like.
Most of all, thanks for putting up with someone as not normal as me and figuring out how to love me.
I hope I've respected you, both to your face and to others. Though things got pretty rough for us a couple of months back, you were great at respecting me enough to not object when I felt it necessary to explain my absence from blogging. I can tell that you're proud of me posting over on Bullets & Butterflies. I'm not able to do any of this without your support.
As much as I write here about the Lord, I thought it only fitting that I devote at least one post to you. People should know that I'm here because of you. I know you loathe public attention as much as I'm trying to obtain it, so I promise not to do this again anytime soon. (This much I know I can get away with. :D)
I'm blessed that I married someone man enough to push through the hard times.
I love you, John—yesterday, today, forever.
P.S. I almost forgot—I also like those texts ...
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