Tuesdays at Ten: Someone I admire is...

Someone I admire is…my husband. And I can break down crying with even the thought. I know what it’s like to have a wonderful best friend that knows your ugly and loves you crazy.  One that can somehow always see your beauty. A love where, if I didn’t have her, I know a part of my soul would die. You can only hope that the man you marry would end up being your best friend, too. That word has been thrown around like it wasn’t precious and rolled off my tongue empty. I know deep. And because I know my depths so well, I also know my shallow. Or maybe it took finding the real thing to recognize what was not.

My husband is so much my lover, but he is also so, so much my best friend. As time goes on I can see it and feel it more and more. I know I’m not easy and I vowed to let all my walls down with him. To not hide and to be vulnerable. So I did and it’s hard. It’s a costly risk. Because you don’t really know for sure how it’s going to go. I guess honoring promises is important to both of us because in return, I get to experience his promise. To love me. And he chooses it every day. The beauty is the natural way it’s like a best friend. A deep, deep love. That’s able to see the raw me, the good and the bad and breathe life into me. Wrap me up and hold me. Encourage me. Support me. Guys on my worst days, because he chooses love, he loves the ugly right out of me. It’s not a romantic love. It’s a, I’m your best friend love. Best friends are always light. They carry an unconditional love for you.

I admire the man that he is. The friend that he is.  It’s a goodness that has the power to melt and soften. I admire the commitment and endurance. The choice. The way he is intentional. The way he uses how well he knows me to love me perfectly.

I admire him for wanting to be more like Jesus. For striving for it. For not giving up on it. For wanting to be a better man. For turning to the cross and the blood. I admire his humility, I’ve seen the pain that comes with it. I’ve seen what no one else sees. The hurt, the wounds, the pride; that he fights everyday so that he can produce holy fruit for others. I’ve seen him lay himself down in grief and without even knowing, gaining more and more of the love that he desires. I see before my very eyes every day.

I admire the man that will head our family. I can’t wait to tell our kids about the way he dies for us. And they’ll see how Jesus is his example. And I admire how he, our head, will be their example.