I spend a lot of my time being grateful. I'm grateful for my job, for the little house we rent, for Delilah the dwarf hamster, for the food I cook and eat. I'm grateful that I know how to knit and can entertain myself and make useful stuff all at the same time. I'm grateful that I can watch House on the Internet and I'm grateful for the sweetly wonderful son I'm raising.What I am most grateful for, though, is my husband.
He is a good and gentle man who has suffered greatly over the past year and has more suffering ahead. He does the things that are hardest for him in order to make life a little easier for the people he loves, even if some of them are the ones causing his suffering. He bears the weight of all of us on his shoulders.
I thank God for putting him in my life every single day. He is my first thought in the morning, my last thought at night, and the star of my dreams. I love him with an amazingly strong and steady love, a love that can withstand much and stand there smiling through it all. A love that, basically, matches him.
This morning I was eating bacon and Belgian waffles with the boy and thinking about how my wonderful man can't have bacon. He's not allowed to have any pork products at all. And he's a fan of pork, let me tell you! Anyway, before I ate, I thanked God for providing, as I always do, and then I just sat for a moment and thought about that dear, sweet man and how much I wish I could take him a piece of bacon or a pork chop or a ham sandwich.
I tell him all the time, on the phone and in my letters, how very much I love him and how very proud I am that he is mine, but I don't know that it helps him a whole lot. I guess my only real option is to pray that he understands the boundless depths of my gratitude. I had no idea when I met him what sort of troubles we would go through together. I had no idea when I married him that I was actually marrying Job. I hope someday I get the chance to show him how amazing I really think he is.
Picture from HowStuffWorks




