with seven little words he hit the brakes on this heavy-hearted locomotive barreling full speed ahead.
he didn't realize their impact. or maybe the impact that was prevented by breathing them over me.
on day 3 it had already been a long week. i have this habit of squeezing too much living into too little time. sometimes it works out okay. other times it overwhelms and paralyzes me.
yesterday i was feeling overwhelmed. a house in need of a haz-mat crew, deadlines at work, yard sale prep to tackle, tiny ones working through their 'stuff', grocery shopping to be done, emails to return...
as i rinsed another dish in the sink and wearily brushed the hair back out of my face he sensed me racing forward at an unhealthy speed. he knows this pattern of behavior all too well. i voiced my concern.
i better get busy if i want this house to at least be presentable when your mom gets here tomorrow. i would hate for her to see how terrible of a housekeeper i really am.
and then his words. the ones filled with freedom. the ones filled with grace. the ones that were love spoken out loud.
honey - you do much more important things.
he said them in passing...moving right past the dish-filled sink. never giving them a disdainful look. never giving them a look at all.
this pressure i feel...i put it on myself. the pressure to mother well, perform my job well, clean my house well. it never comes from him...ever.
next week we celebrate our anniversary and there are dozens of reasons i could give you for marrying this best friend of mine. there are dozens of qualities that make me fall in love with him over and over again each day. but today i am most grateful that he lets me focus on the important.
when i am counseling a friend in crisis, trashing the kitchen to prepare a meal for someone else, reading a book, inviting extra kids over to give other mommies a break, sifting through scripture, painting a picture, making playdough with the kids, writing a blog post...
he never looks at the floor that goes unmopped or the clothes that haven't been put away or the pile of junk that has taken up permanent residence on the kitchen counter...
he looks at me.
he sees the heart-work that i do and proclaims it important. and i remember that it is. my burdens are lifted.
in this way he loves me so very well.