Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Blueberry Muffin

I can still taste that blueberry muffin. I did not want it to end. Maybe it was all that sunshine and warm breeze rustling the palms, or the laze of the days and blazing sunsets that made me relish every last bite? In October I spent 5 lovely days on a tropical island in the South Pacific with the man I married 10 years ago. The lucky dog.

I am so kidding. The past few months have really shown me the gem of a husband I have. He has been so patient and kind, loving and long-suffering, honoring and serving of me in every way possible.

Today I watched him lead his college in worship with his six strings and humility of heart. I looked on smiling with my own heart pounding with pride. Proud of who he is, who he is becoming. He's the sort of fellow who can go straight from a stage with lights and cameras to cleaning the toilets or helping someone get their motorcycle started with equal gladness. The sort of fellow who asks me to wear flowers in my hair and who possesses massive amounts of faith. It's these sorts of qualities I love so.

A few weeks ago we went to a gold class movie that was gifted to us by some friends. Gold Class movies are the First Class of movie going. We were ushered to our giant leather lounge recliners and served our courses of meal and other delights throughout the movie at times of our choice. It was fantastic. Quite a ritzy experience. Brooks had them bring me skittles, which they served in a glass pedestal bowl and he got the movie classic, popcorn. As we watched the picture show play out before us, our hands would meet in our fancy bowls of goodies, like teenagers, and my insides went a flutter. We walked out of the movies that night hand in hand. Him helping his ailing wife to the car. And me, warmly wishing to hold his hand forever and ever never to end. Like the best blueberry muffin you ever did eat on a tropical island in the South Pacific under palm trees swaying.

Dear Brooks,
Thanks for loving me the amount you do.
Thanks for making me laugh and bringing me breakfast in bed every single blasted sick day.
Thanks for being faithful, for loving and trusting God, and for serving Him only.
Thanks for smiling and counting on your fingers.
Thanks for being the sort of fellow you are.
And thanks for the blueberry muffin.

And Dear God,
Thanks for such a gift.