Today is a very special day–my husband’s birthday!
When my husband and I decided 9 years ago to get married, there was nothing earth-shattering about it. There was no romantic proposal. It happened in a manner that was typical for us. We eased ourselves from dating to engaged in a simple phone conversation. There were no fireworks or fancy words.
It was just a simple acceptance from both of us that God had chosen us for one another. That He had orchestrated our relationship and that it was His will for both of us that we be together.
There wasn’t really a proposal and our engagement story isn’t what anyone would call “romantic.”
But the past 8.5 years of life and marriage has taught me something.
I don’t want romance.
When I look up “romance,” here are some of the definitions
1. fanciful; impractical; unrealistic: romantic ideas.
2. imbued with or dominated by idealism.3.characterized by a preoccupation with love or by the idealizing of love or one’s beloved.
But he is such a good dad. He takes our boys outside to play, and he interacts with them. He teaches them to fish, play ball, and ride their bikes. He tells them stories every night at bedtime. They both love and admire him and want to be just like him when they grow up.
And I would be so proud if they did.
He knows the difficulties of “in sickness and in health,” as he has struggled with me through the depths of depression. He may not understand it or know exactly what to say, but he has stayed by my side even though it gets ugly sometimes.