I love the song Lead Me by Sanctus Real. It is one of my favorites. It reminds me of how blessed I am to have the husband I have. The Handy Man is not perfect…I could give you PLENTY of proofs of his imperfections….but he is the man God gave me, to lead me, to protect me, to father my children, to respect and to love. And truth be told, my imperfections, and the proofs thereof, are MUCH greater. God was merciful and gracious in giving me the Handy Man.
He works hard all day, and yet he recognizes that homeschooling the kids is not a passive job for me, either. He had to write an essay for his Employment 1000 class that detailed a job he would like to have. He detailed my job–not the cushy parts, either, but the real parts–like how I get to be with my children all day, and how we develop close relationships, and how I can bake bread from freshly ground grain, and how hard it is to school the kids all day long and still have sanity left at the end of the day. Nothing makes a wife feel more loved than for her husband to recognize that the job she does is REAL, that it is HARD, and that it is WORTH IT. How could I not love a man who sees that and thanks God for me every time we pray together? How could I not love a man who overlooks my selfish nature, my moodiness (hello peri-menopause!), and my imperfections as a homemaker.
Tonight we were discussing Christmas wish lists. I told him that I haven’t a clue what to get him for Christmas that is in our budget. (He does have wish list, but it is mostly comprised of big-ticket items far out of our budget range.) He looked at me with a smile and said, “I’ve got all I want…I’ve got you.”
A few hour earlier, he had made his confession. When the children and I got home from
surviving Wal-Mart shopping, he had just arrived home after working a little overtime and doing some shopping of his own. He sheepishly said, “I had to do it. I couldn’t help myself. I had to buy my granddaughter an outfit.” He held up a cute little blue outfit. She isn’t even here yet, and already her Grand Daddy is wrapped around her little finger. Mercy.
Yes, the Handy Man bought baby clothes, and they weren’t his trademark color,
hideous obnoxious annoying neon orange. Just one more reason why I love that man.