As you come to him, the living Stone--rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him--you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 1 Peter 2: 4-5

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Must be the hormones...

or just the fact that I have realized again...for the 100th or so time...what a wonderful man I married.

Last night was a rough night. Hannah has been fighting going to bed, but last night was worse than ever. Once we did get to sleep, she woke up again screaming at 12:00 that her "diaper hurt." This is a common plea of hers, since she found out that it gives her a few more minutes with mom and dad and a chance to get out of bed. I remember waking up and hearing her, trying to convince myself to get up and take care of her, and then Daryl getting up with her. While I was grateful, I really didn't give it much thought as I fell back asleep.

At 2:30, he woke me up to ask where the Benadryl was. So I got up, gave some to her, and he told me to go back to bed. I watched as he fixed himself up on the couch, with Hannah draped across him, rubbing her back. Sweet, I thought, but I really couldn't wait to get back to bed. Once I got into bed, I could hear him talking to her through the intercom, and I tell you, my heart just melted. This big strong man, who does not do well without sleep, was just as patient and kind as he loved and sang and soothed her. And this morning? No grouching around. He was tired, and sort of silent until he got upstairs, but then as soon as Hannah woke up, it was like none of it ever happened.

I remember when we were trying so hard to conceive, and I felt so bad that I could not give him a biological child. He told me in no uncertain terms that he didn't care if I ever had a baby, that the three that we already had were more than he ever could have imagined. That he had no real need to have a baby, a toddler, a child that came from him. And yet, I cannot even fathom him not having this kind of love, of never being able to give it to him. They say that you fall in love with your husband all over again when you watch them as a father, and it couldn't be truer. Every single day, no matter what else is going on in our lives, I fall just a little bit more in love, have a little bit more respect, and like him just a little bit more as I watch him with our children.

When we met him, Josh told me one night, "God has sent us an angel, Mom." And really, I believed him then. And I believe him now.

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