Every time I hear of natural disasters or other sad crisis moments, there are always men (and of course women) that have tremendous amounts of courage. They go in when others run out. They stand up for justice when others watch in shock. They push fear for their own safety aside and they do the right thing. A while back I watched a scene unfold that paralyzed me. There were many other men present, and they seemed as paralyzed to do something, as I felt. Out of the group one man stood up, walked into the chaos and dealt with it kindly and respectfully, but firmly. Relief swept over the group because of course something had been needing to be done but everyone was in such shock that it was unfolding that way, nobody was able to decide what to do or think. I was probably the least surprised that it was my man who stood up and made sure wrong was righted.
He is strong yet gentle. He is kind. Always.
He chooses his words with care and often says nothing at all when many would fill the silence with words that might wound.
He has patience and understanding and to know him is to respect him.
He is a hard worker, a good listener, and his gift is encouragement.
He loves Jesus with all his heart and after a childhood without much of a father-figure, he is the most amazing daddy to my hoodlums.
He doesn't drink, he doesn't cuss, and he is an eternal optimist.
He isn't perfect, but he's perfect for me. He is my hero. My best friend. And the man of my dreams. Twenty years ago today, he asked me out on a date. I was smart enough to say, "yes." I thank God every day that I did.
More WORDS coming soon! (grin)