They seem silly, now, all these little lines on my to-do list that I just had to get done before I could sit down with him: scrub the pot, load the dishwasher, sweep the floor, fold the laundry, write my to-do list for tomorrow. And when I came to sit next to him, this man who shares life with me, right over there in those cozy chairs on the lawn, the sunset’s glory was over. And we couldn’t stay out there very long, he and I, because the warmth left with the sunshine, and cold settled in. So we went in, and it was time for bed. And he said that we could try again tomorrow.


They seem absurd, now, all these nit-picking things that I often feel the need to point out about him, like how he sometimes chews with his mouth open,  or how he walks around with a stain on his shirt, or doesn’t close the drawers all the way, or takes too long to get ready. For when I look at him now, I only see a man who loves me fully, a man committed to me until the end, and I wish I could erase those words I said, faces I made, thoughts I thought, and I wish I could take back the judgments of my heart. So I tell him these things, and he says that he loves me, and that tomorrow is another day to love each other fully.

photo (19)

They seem like such a waste, now, all these moments when I did not give in to spontaneity, because we were too old, or too young, or too white, or too fat, or too poor, or too tired or too in-the-middle-of-the-road, or too proper or too “American.” For when I think of them now, I understand them to be invitations to live, to laugh, to feel, to love and be loved. So I  tell him my regrets, and he holds me in his arms and says that our lives have been full and good and wonderful thus far, and that there are no regrets, and we have tomorrow to grow together again.

And as I ponder these things, I can think of no to-do list more important than watching the sun set with him by my side, and I want no one else but him to go through life with me, and I am just so thankful for the Now that we have.

And as I closed my eyes at the end of this day, I prayed that I might sit with him tomorrow and see the sun setting into the horizon. And then, life stirs in me, and I open my eyes, wide awake to the gift that this moment is. I suggest that we get dressed and go get ice cream at the one store in town that’s open 24/7. And my husband, he looks at me as if I was an alien, and then we both get up, get dressed and go buy cookies-and-cream ice cream, and we come home and devour the carton together.

And as I close my eyes for the second time at the end of this day, my heart is full of joy. And my husband, he smiles. 


Cultivating Thankfulness with Ann Voskamp

one-thousand7#797 Wine and Cheese night with my hubby

#798 Making a tasty breakfast casserole

#799 My friend’s bridal shower!

Sometimes, I link up with any or all of these wonderful writers: Hearts 4 Home, SDG, Hearts Reflected, WLW, EOA, Things I can’t say, Growing Home, Play Dates with God, Monday Musings, Hear it on Sunday,Inspire Me Monday, Tell me a Story, The Better Mom, a Mama’s Story, Into the Word, In and Around Mondays,OYHT, Gratituesday,Titus2Tuesdays, Extraordinay, Lessons from Ivy, Denise in Bloom, Sweet Blessings, Faith Filled Friday, Finding Joy, WholeHearted Home, Mom’s the Word,