Happy Anniversary to Me!

Today my husband and I celebrate sixteen years of marriage. We are celebrating by taking our older daughter to her violin lesson and afterwards we'll all go to see the movie "The Tale of Despereaux. It'll be a family celebration. My husband and I already had a weekend away alone a few weeks ago.

Yesterday, I was surprised to find a bouquet of roses in my laundry room. I wasn't supposed to find them, but I did. The laundry room may not seem like a good place to hide my gift, but it was the quickest place to ditch them when he came in the back door. I think he planned to bring them out later, but I discovered them first. They are lovely, all twenty of them. In addition, the girls together with their daddy, got me a lovely gift set from Bath and Body. I feel so spoiled. And I don't have a thing to give my husband as we usually don't exchange anniversary gifts since it is so close to Christmas. But he says he's okay with that, and we've been married long enough for me to know that when he says it's okay, it's really okay. I'm glad because I really don't have anything to give him, except of course my undying devotion and love. He's good with that, though.

God has given me a wonderful man for my husband. He does not take himself too seriously and is not afraid to laugh at himself. He is quietly secure as a man. He is patient, loyal, extremely hard working, and immensely talented, not to mention blessed with vast quantities of plain old common sense which is infinitely more practical than tons of book sense, though he has plenty of that, too. He is the ultimate handyman. I can't remember the last time we had to call a repairman for anything. He is very even keel in his personality, something for which I am very grateful because I am not always even keel. He is my anchor, steady, unfailing, and emotionally balanced. More importantly, he is a godly husband and father. What more could I ask for? Nothing, of course.

How very blessed I am!

Ordinary Childhood

As I get up from the dinner table, I impulsively plant a kiss on my younger dauther's forehead, something I do frequently. As she happily munches on her dessert, a cinnamon streusel muffin, while I'm gathering the plates and utensils, I am struck by a plethora of thoughts. Funny something so ordinary and uninteresting should prompt such thoughts. Perhaps it is the very ordinariness of the moment that impressed me. Here sits my younger child, happy and content with enough food to eat, a warm comfortable house to live in, her own room, more toys than she needs, two parents who love her unconditionally, and lots of friends and family who also love her. Her life is ordinary, uneventful, happy. Not every child is so blessed, sadly. I try to tell my children this so that they will be appreciative of what they have, yet words are woefully inadequate. I continue clearing the table as Little Munchkin finishes her muffin then skips off to get ready for bed. Happy. She is happy. My children are happy. They are loved and cared for. They are warm and well-fed. And, I am grateful, so very grateful that I can provide a secure environment for them. I tell them frequently that I am so glad God gave them to me. I want them to always be sure of my love, to feel secure. I pray that one day they may realize how absolutely blessed they are now.