Saturday, March 29, 2014

My Favorite Part of the Day


A flashback to 2008, engaged but just barely


I used to be a morning person.

It was so much a part of my identity that it has probably been healthy to let it go.

But, oh the glory of those sweet mornings.  In college, I would get up and journal on the hard-as-a-rock futon in the corner of my room, looking out of those big Mayfield windows down to the intramural fields below.  In our pre-baby marriage days, I made the coffee for one and sat on our huge ugly chair which made up for its homeliness by being the perfect size and squishiness.

Now I sleep until Anna sleeps, which most days, rings right at 8 am.  I'm a lady of leisure now, what can I say?

I miss being an early bird.  I am sure some day when I'm not waking up multiple times a night it shall return.  For now, my new favorite part of the day is 5:15 p.m.  After 5, I strategically plant myself in the kitchen, the best perspective from which to catch a certain tan blur out the kitchen window.  When the Honda Civic pulls into the carport, the ladies of ye old bungalow rejoice.

Even if Anna and I have had an incredible, fuss-free (me, she's never fussy) day together, there is just something about knowing that he is home.  My friend, my love.  We've never done this before, this all day office job gig. 8 hours is a long time!  For 8 hours, I have no one to tell my lame jokes to.  Thank heavens for texting.  I'm always afraid that I am going to accidentally send my Aaron texts to the wrong person - not because they are scandalous (sometimes they are) but mostly because they are just so...weird.

He gets me.  He gets my weird self.

And we are doing this thing together.  This crazy ride of parenting.  This tough road of being Christ-followers.  This NEVER-ENDING project of house renovation.  (I'm being dramatic about that one. All-caps release some of my stress.)  For better.  For worse.  We promised.  There have been days when the promise has been a thin thread strung between two hard hearts, but it stays.

The artist Sleeping At Last sings a song with this chorus,

May the years we're here be kind, be kind
May our hearts like doors open wide, open wide
Settle our bones like wood over time, over time
Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine

When he walks in that door at 5:15, I think of these words.  Here we are, in this little creaky home that we are slowly making our own, and there is no one else that I want to do any of this with.

It is he who will get all my years, and I pray they will be kind.
It is to him first that I will open my heart wide, and then together, we will fling open the doors and invite in friends and neighbors.
It is with him that these bones will age and ache, and the creak of our joints will be the song of the long direction.
And when the table is full or when the cupboards echo with emptiness, it is he and I that will kneel at the feet of the One who opens His hand to satisfy the hungry.

I love you, Aaron.  To all that's ahead, I raise the glass.  To every 5:15 and to the man who brings such joy with one turn of the knob.  


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