Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
096/365...I love lamp
Seriously...I do. I love this lamp. It's one of my favorite decorations around the house.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Love, old enough to drink
Yesterday was a special day. Valentine's Day? That's part of it, but not all of it. Twenty-one years ago, yesterday, I took a pretty big step. A HUGE step. As it turns out, the very best step I've ever dared take. I bought a card. Not just any card, but a Valentine's Day card. And then I wrote it in. Not just random words, but the words. And then I gave it to a girl. Not just any girl, but THE ONE kind of girl.
So, twenty-one years ago means that the adventure I began with my bride is now officially old enough to drink. Not that it needs to or wants to, just that it can if it needs or wants to. It also means that we have more history with each other than many people have even been alive. Wow...that's a staggering thought, right there.
What I love about us is that we have our thing down pretty well. We know each other and us and our own unique code pretty well. Sometimes more than we know ourselves. I know when she's asleep and when she's having a hard time going to sleep. I know when she's super happy and not-so-super happy. I know when it's me and when it's not me (and I'm not just talking about the bad stuff here). I know how to make her laugh and I know how to make her cry. When I'm freaking out, she's calm and sometimes, those tables turn. I know that no one gets Columbia House or "biology" or "2" like we do. I love that we pray, laugh, read and talk in bed, sometimes almost simultaneously.
Most of all, I love that we can expect the expected and the unexpected all at the same time...and all of it still excites me after these twenty-one years of love, life, laughter, kids, broken cars and all the rest. I love—us. The us we were, the us we are and, most definitely, the us we will become.
Twenty-one years is a long time and but a grain in the hourglass of our lives. And I couldn't be happier about any step, card or words before or since.
So, twenty-one years ago means that the adventure I began with my bride is now officially old enough to drink. Not that it needs to or wants to, just that it can if it needs or wants to. It also means that we have more history with each other than many people have even been alive. Wow...that's a staggering thought, right there.
What I love about us is that we have our thing down pretty well. We know each other and us and our own unique code pretty well. Sometimes more than we know ourselves. I know when she's asleep and when she's having a hard time going to sleep. I know when she's super happy and not-so-super happy. I know when it's me and when it's not me (and I'm not just talking about the bad stuff here). I know how to make her laugh and I know how to make her cry. When I'm freaking out, she's calm and sometimes, those tables turn. I know that no one gets Columbia House or "biology" or "2" like we do. I love that we pray, laugh, read and talk in bed, sometimes almost simultaneously.
Most of all, I love that we can expect the expected and the unexpected all at the same time...and all of it still excites me after these twenty-one years of love, life, laughter, kids, broken cars and all the rest. I love—us. The us we were, the us we are and, most definitely, the us we will become.
Twenty-one years is a long time and but a grain in the hourglass of our lives. And I couldn't be happier about any step, card or words before or since.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
I resolve...
New Year's resolutions have never been that appealing to me. I don't blame anyone for making (or breaking) them, but I just haven't ever been a fan. I suppose if I had to narrow it down, my resolution list would look something like this: somehow, understand more of God's love for me as well as assure that my wife is loved more than ever and my children are confident that they are loved above all else. Nothing else really matters, does it?
Sure, there are other things that I want—those 30 pounds won't disappear on their own. I guess I should at least exert some sort of effort there. Organization, simplification, guitar playing...all noble quests indeed. You could argue that I should drop those pounds and pick up that guitar and pick up all the other crap I leave around the house, while I'm at it...and you'd be right. Here's what I say, "OK...I'll try."
But, my resolve? My resolution is simple—I resolve to be a God-child...and a husband...and a dad. Those three occupy my time, effort and focus in the next year or two or sixty. Anything else is just gravy. Mmm...gravy.
Sure, there are other things that I want—those 30 pounds won't disappear on their own. I guess I should at least exert some sort of effort there. Organization, simplification, guitar playing...all noble quests indeed. You could argue that I should drop those pounds and pick up that guitar and pick up all the other crap I leave around the house, while I'm at it...and you'd be right. Here's what I say, "OK...I'll try."
But, my resolve? My resolution is simple—I resolve to be a God-child...and a husband...and a dad. Those three occupy my time, effort and focus in the next year or two or sixty. Anything else is just gravy. Mmm...gravy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)