Over the past eight months, I've blogged about the Vivas Adventures, but I've never really wrote a post about who we are. So, I've decided over the next week (yes, we have that many in our family), I will write about those who are near and dear to my heart. Of course, that would have to start with the main man, the love of my life, you get the picture.
The other day, my middle son asked, "So mom, how long did you and dad date before he asked you to marry him?"
"Oh, well you see, son, just because we did, doesn't mean you should, um, you know."
His eyes widened as I told him we'd had one date, yup, one date. I went on to explain that he told me he loved me a couple of days later, and well, the next week, he proposed.
"But, son, I don't recommend that you do it that way."
"Yeah, mom, because I heard the first year is the hardest."
I met my hubby at church right after I became a Christian. I'll never forget the first time I met him. I was with my mom, and someone introduced us. He was wearing a purple shirt. My favorite shade of purple, my favorite color. And that was that.
Several months later, I was at a single's Bible study and in walks this guy. He was in black biker shorts and a t-shirt; he'd just ridden his bike over. Yeah, I admit it, I noticed the thighs. And that was that.
And yet, even later, six months after the first time I'd met him at church, he asked me if I'd like to listen to some music with him while he worked on some audio stuff. Sure. OK. And so it began. I'll admit, I was a little panicked when he started to drive me out of town. And then up the mountain. Until we reached the lodge. Where we had a romantic dinner and talked and talked. And then we drove further up the mountain and talked some more. And saw several shooting starts. And he kissed me. And that was that.
Six months later, we were married. Our parents thought we were nuts. Who wouldn't? But, we were in love. And now, 17 years later, here we are! Still in love.
So, what is it about him anyway? It's in his kiss.
OK, but seriously, it's more than that!
He loves His God.
He loves me. Deeply. And he's not afraid to show it.
The man would do anything for me; and he has. He rarely tells me no; and when he has, it's usually because I am not good at saying, "no" myself, so he says it for me. 🙂
He does the dishes. A lot.
He'll do laundry.
I cook, he cleans. Sometimes he'll follow right behind me, cleaning as I cook!
He cooks, and he cleans.
He'll go to the store for me in the middle of the night. Even when I'm not pregnant and craving something.
Speaking of which, he put up with me through several pregnancies! That's not an easy task.
He makes the tough things look like fun!
He fixes things for me. A lot.
He's a soccer coach.
He'll plunge the toilet. That alone is worth an award after certain children mess it up.
He lets me mess up his garage…and only complains a little.
He puts up with coming home each night to who knows what chaos….or a houseful of children, or a houseful of animals, or….well, you just never know with me.
He's not afraid to have fun, or be silly, or laugh at himself.
He plays the guitar.
He sends me flowers for no reason. And chocolate.
He tells me he loves me, every day. Sometimes more.
He checks in with me every day; just to see how we are doing.
He loves our children. Deeply.
There's not enough space to tell of all the ways he's special.
Even less space to tell of the ways he shows how special I am to him!
There's so much I could say, and so much that I'll probably leave out.
I'm sure after I post this, I'll think of a hundred more things I should have said.
Or could have said.
But I'll leave it with this. I love him, and he's mine.
And I'm so thankful that God saw fit to save him for me.
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