An Open Letter to My Husband
I spent Friday evening with a group of moms— half of them single moms with full custody of their 1-3 kids, ranging from ages 0-9.
Intentionally trying to build deeper, more authentic community, the 8 of us chose to roundtable four different questions, all centering around loneliness and how God meets us in our moments of despair and hopelessness.
It was an eye-opening, grace-drenched time, complete with laughter and tears and all manner of loving, supportive conversation.
And I realized something: the struggles and frustrations and feelings of fear or inadequacy or loneliness of those single moms in the group were vastly different from my own on so many levels. One even made a comment something to the effect of “I get lonely when I think about how long it’s be since I’ve had any alone time.”
It was humbling and eye-opening to hear more about their journeys. It gave me a fresh perspective of how good I’ve got it with you.
Because here is the contrast between my journey and theirs: right this moment, as I sit on the living room carpet, my back leaning against the front window, reading a book, I hear you playing in the front yard with Abby and Ben. I hear you being patient with the irrational toddler and affirming to our tender-hearted ten-year old. I know you have put aside work emails and even your own workout in order to be intentionally present with us all today. You want to really be here with us when you’re home with us nowadays.
I see your compassion for our kids when they are hurting, your ferocity when you want to protect us from the hurtful outside world, your silliness when you play Truth-or-Dare with the kids, your humility when you admit you blew it.
And I just need you to know: you are a damn good man and I love you more than I can put into words. I still can’t believe my ignorant 23 year old self actually make such a great marital choice, but the truth is the truth and, believe it or not, I actually chose well. You are a man of integrity and compassion, intelligence and courage, wisdom and humility.
Thank you for always being willing to admit when you’ve screwed up.
Thank you for diligently going to work and doing one of the most stressful jobs on the planet— and, thus, providing financially for our family.
Thank you for being a safe place for me to share my hurts, my struggles, and my fears.
Thank you for making it a priority to let me escape from you and the kids every weekend so that I can do what my soul longs to do: hike, write, build things, be with people, and work in my garden…
Thank you for thanking me and encouraging me in my role as a mom. Your kindness and affirming support bring me such comfort— especially in those moments I doubt my abilities or when I royally screw up. It means so much to me to know you appreciate and support me.
Thank you for letting me drape my legs on you throughout the night as we sleep every night— I love the casual comfort we have with each other after all these years.
Thank you for being available and eager to simply talk with me this afternoon in the kitchen. Moments like those, though “regular” and seemingly inconsequential, are priceless.
I’m so grateful to have you by my side, honey.
Oh yeah: and thank you for playing with our precious little munchkin-people this very moment.
I love you, honey. Thank you for making my life so much richer and more enjoyable just by being you.
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What about you?
How has your perspective changed after getting a taste of someone else’s journey? In what ways can you affirm or show appreciation for some of your most supportive loved ones today?
Please feel free to share your comments or your own journey in the comment section below.