I tend to work in sporadic shifts. If something needs to get done, I go 100 miles an hour to finish it. I work best under pressure. I’ve always been that way.
“Spontaneous!” That’s what the counselor calls me. He tells me my spontaneity is one of the reasons he fell in love with me. Some days I think I appreciate this quality; while I’m trudging through task after task after task, but other days I wish I was more like him.
“Structured!” That’s what I call the counselor. He is as reliable as the day is long. He’s my rock. He sets goals. He has a clear outline where each day is going and everything on his list gets done.
I guess at the end of the day, we are both in the same place in our own individual accomplishments. Children have been loved, read to, feed healthy food.
Bills have been paid, work has been attended too, maybe a car has been washed or the lawn has been mowed, but lately, I’ve taken so much on I’ve let some of the basics go.
I stay up too late.
I’m tired and some mornings, need extra sleep.
And who makes up for it? The counselor; without a complaint mind you. He’s up early (he always has been an early riser) and gets the kids ready for school, reads scriptures, says prayers, tousles their hair and reminds them as they walk out the door “Remember, you’re a child of God.”
And I wake up and he says “Good morning, beautiful,” and then I look around and see all he has managed so I can sleep more.
I believe marriage works best when each partner is giving 100%. I know marriage isn’t about keeping score, but I’m currently in the lagging position. To be honest, I’ve been trying to keep up with him my entire marriage. I just can’t seem to get to his level of efficiency and follow-through.
This weekend, the counselor and I headed out the door for our weekly date. We had a nice dinner, but I was deep in thought; trying to understand this man who gives so much and is still so happy. Shouldn't he be irritated? Upset? But the counselor has never reacted with anger. He doesn't have mood swings; he doesn't react with bouts of belly laughter or gut-wrenching tears like I do. He's steady and constant.
“What are you thinking about?” he finally asked.
“I don’t know how you can do so much, and lately I’ve been slacking and it would almost be easier if you would just get mad or something. You keep giving and doing and loving and I want to say I’m sorry.”
And then he told me something that took my breath away.
He said “Well, I love you.”
My eyes filled with tears.
The counselor is very expressive and there isn’t a day that goes by without him saying he loves me, but this time I felt those amazing three words in everything I am. I had wondered why he does what he does and how he can pick up the pieces that sometimes I’m too tired to carry and he does it because he loves me.
Love is a beautiful thing. Never have I heard a sweeter fairy tale.