Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentine's Love Enough

I pestered him with questions.  Asking if we are going to celebrate valentines day, what he is planning, what he is going to get me, if we are at least going to exchange cards or he buy me flowers.  I knew he hadn’t given it much thought.  Why, I didn’t even have a card to give him.  I kept the tone light, joking.  But really, I wanted him to for once be unpractical.  I wanted to make sure he couldn’t forget.  Yet I didn’t want to be the wife who needed special occasions.  I wasn’t going to get offended with an ordinary day.  But I wanted some romance, something out of the ordinary.  I turned off the radio.  Those commercials weren’t helping.  Maybe I could manipulate it out of him.  I don’t expect anything extravagant to occur today.  He’s at work with his lunch and the note I tucked into it.  I didn’t take him up on the offer to go out to eat.  The options in cottage country winter hardly suit the occasion and we can’t afford it.  So, I’ll fix dinner (it’s waiting to be determined how elaborate the spread will be.)  And then we’ll go do our weekly shopping, spending money we don’t have.  If I let myself, I could induce a mood.  But I know he loves me.  Do I need the extra reassurance?  Everyday is extraordinary with him in it.  His rough blackened hardworking hands are valentine love enough.  I waffle between lavishing expressions of my love upon him to taking his cue and doing nothing special.  My heart would rather do one of these than choose some middle ground that bears my heart vulnerably, softly, insignificantly, but honest all the same.  I’d rather control the moments and what I’ll experience than wait on him to determine them.  But no matter what the evening brings I will enter it knowing I am loved, that any extra expression is reaffirming what is already there, not creating it.  I will find some way to respect him because in him I have so much to be thankful for:

his faithful early mornings
his monitoring of the bills and wood pile
his tenderness
his blackened working hands
his laughter causing his eyes to squint
his pride in the life we are creating
his joy over the meals I prepare
his voice reading God’s Word
his strength refusing to admit weakness or give in to fear
his gentle attempts to wake me
his acceptance of the ordinary
his encouragement of my talents
his dreams of sustainability
his experimenting
his curiosity
his practicality
his first spoken “I love you” 2 years ago
his wisdom humbly offered
his soft voice
his presence every day      

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