I’ve been spoiled by our
Sunday school class. Or rather, I’m spoiled by the makers of coffee and bringers of donuts for our Sunday school class. This morning as I went to hug the coffee guardian, feeling oh so blessed. He nearly spilled a cup of the precious brew and he reminded me of the danger.
“Danger,” I scoffed, “I live for danger.”
My friend Linda snickered. “That’s why you’re married to Phil!”
“Yep, I’m headed for sainthood.”
Truth is they have no idea. Like last night. Phil took me to the
Valentine Soirée sponsored by the Men’s and Women’s ministries at our church. This year it was held off campus at a hotel. Very elegant. There was also a silent auction with the proceeds going to help defray costs for the youth ministry trip to Jamaica this summer. Phil hopped up to see what was there. I didn’t think anything about it. However, with his second trip back to the auction table, I suspected he had his eye on something.
Our friend Barb winked. “What are you bidding on, Phil?”
“A new wife.”
Barb gasped.
“You better win.,” I told him. Phil enjoys ornery way too much.
He did win, only not a new wife—a grateful wife, but not a new one. He’d been bidding on a dozen roses and presented them to me at the end of the evening. The man is good. Ornery, but good. And he knows me oh so well.
So I want to take a minute to let him know I love him—and the beauty of it is, he’s really a shy, behind-the-scenes kind of guy who just happens to have a sharp wit and sensitive streak.
He’s not the only ornery one.
My love laughs with me.
Not at me or about me.
My love laughs with me
And we share a moment between just us two.
Rivulets of joy stream from his eyes.
I enjoy him so much I forget what began
this laughter together.
My love laughs with me
Moments over days bound by years into decades
Our laughter warms us, heals us, binds us,
makes us one for one more moment.
My love laughs with me
and I hear the music of our love.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Phil. I love you.
Abundant blessings,
Jenny
