stumblingtoholiness

On your birthday,

I could tell you how much I wish I could do something extravagant for you.

I could tell you how much I wish I could buy you that motorcycle jacket you’ve been eyeing, or any of the sundry items from Filson you admire.

I could tell you how I wish we could fly away to Europe for a week.

The thing is, I don’t.  It isn’t that I don’t want to do these things for you, that I don’t want to bless you, or go for a romantic trip with you.  Those things would be lovely.  But they are not going to happen right now.  While I enjoy planning for some of these things, to bemoan my inability to do them right now is to criticize your capability of providing for our family. They are cries of dissatisfaction that echo beyond a birthday gift for you to sow discontentment with the life you work so hard to build for us.

I will not dishonor you or our Lord, our ultimate provider with these complaints. Instead, on your birthday, I want to thank you.

Thank you for leading and guiding our family on a unique adventure that we will talk about for the rest of our lives. Our grandchildren will hear stories of their parents and how we all worked to build this life together.

Thank you for being ready for any adventure I suggest, whether it is a dog, a bunny, a baby. Or two.

Thank you for never criticizing or accusing me as a wife, mother, and manager of our household but always offering love, support, and encouragement. For insisting that I go on my retreat even when finances are tight, for caring more for my spiritual well being than your physical comfort or convenience.

Thank you for always giving me the last bite.

Thank you for building us a home with your bare hands.

Thank you for standing by me in my darkest, most desperate moments…or months…or years.

Thank you for loving chocolate as much as I do, and still giving me the last bite.

Thank you for grieving for zperson as much as I.

Thank you for “improving” my taste in wine and cheese.

Thank you for our other 5 beautiful children.

Thank you for knowing when to hold your tongue even when I don’t.

Thank you for singing; for the songs you have written me, those you sing to our children, and the hymns that can and have made me weep with their beauty.

Thank you for being a walking, talking ad lib, accent impersonator extraordinaire. If we ever have to pass as French food critics, Russian bear hunters, or wookies, you are ON IT!

Thank you for knowing something about just about everything.

Thank you for being a man who is willing to stop and ask for directions.

Thank you for picking up my shoes.

Thank you for leaving your socks around. Well, not really, but we wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re perfect now, would we 😉

Above all, thank you for being my husband, walking beside me, and being my friend.

Happy Birthday love.