I am so grateful. For my husband's architecturally perfect nose. For my son's exuberance. For the blessing of them both. I am a wealthy person with a colorful happiness, thanks to these two.
I may be snarky and I may deal with life's difficulties by threatening to send my son to Cuba and take a nap until they return him with a bribe to never try that again, but I am so grateful for the rare 10 pm, when teething pains wake him up just enough to need rocking, when I get to hold his little, sleeping body long past the few minutes it takes to see him back to sleep. Because I love holding him, my sweet, monstrous little love. I love having my face on his soft head and quietly kissing him until I rally myself to put him down again.
I often curse the Navy for taking away my best friend, but this temporary absence does not diminish the depths of comfort, stability and peace my husband's love gives me. When I say I am a richer woman for having him, I mean I am fuller and continually grow in my capacity to hold the fullness that is marriage. The growing takes lots of commitment. Commitment to deny yourself the right to be angry. Commitment to make peace between two wholly different, but equally fallen persons. Commitment to not talk about sex in public. (Your voice is always louder than you think it is, Rebekah.) Commitment to a God who is the only foundation and salvation for this partnership.
"Thus far the Lord has brought us."
I am humbled by the gracious gift of my two loves. I am more humbled by the knowledge that God Almighty humiliated himself to be a man, that I might be able to comprehend Him. That He chased me down to tell me that, though I was less than undeserving, His love has caused me to be worth the salvation offered me. From utter darkness to warm sunlight. Merry Christmas. Merry day of Hope.
I am loved, so I am grateful. It is a beautiful Christmas, indeed.