Lucky in Love

 I took a late-night stroll tonight. The grass was wet from an unexpected shower. The night air thick and fragrant, wrapped around my head as I breathed in the sweet, earthy smells. Signs of life emanated in the quiet - muted sounds of people laughing, talking, even singing. I put up cheery party lights a couple years ago on my front porch, and now they're strung up all along my path home. I lived most of my adult life in the country, without neighbors, but now in our golden years we are right in the middle of this small town, where folks notice if you ramble around your house naked. I am so happy we live here. I thank God most every day for the joy of getting to wake up in this old, sweet house. Its walls are peaceful, its windows full of light and wavy goodness. Can a house have a soul? This one seems a culmination of all the other places we've lived, the furniture from all kinds of odd places nestling in like an old worn shoe. 

I'm in a lot of pain now, wrestling with doctor and naturopath appointments to figure out why. This week, my husband gave me a puppy my sister was trying to rehome, for the simple reason that he saw it was giving me comfort. I was lingering a little long with my fingers in her curly, soft coat. She was wrapping herself around my leg and making me smile. Puppies poop, chew things up, and have to be taken out multiple times a day. Ken loves order, clocks and Franklin planners. But I guess he loves me better. As I walked my now-two-dogs tonight, with them getting tangled in each others' leashes and checking out every bush and leaf along our path...I pondered the gift of love. I remember our early days and years, where the heat of youth and ambition kept our fires going. Then came the gift of four beautiful children, where grand purposes overcame the exhaustion of child-rearing. Next were really difficult years, when it became hard to find two pennies to rub together and to find ways to keep our heads and our childrens' above water. Then there was the empty nest, where all the aspirations and priorities become mashed into an unrecognizable lump. The stillness, deafening, as we tried to remember who we were, who we are. 

I'm suffering. Giant, warm, kind hands reach out to help me up, to help me dress, to hold me when I cry from the frustration and pain. I know those hands as well as I know my own. Many a road has been traveled with mine swallowed up in his. I never counted on not being able to do every single thing I wanted to do. I've always been strong, resourceful, capable. Asking for help is hard. I can do it myself. Until I can't.

In this difficult trial, I have no clue about what the road ahead looks like. I don't know if there are answers to my questions. But I do know this...that I am loved. Despite my oft-difficult and complicated self, despite the ravages of the years and the wrinkles and pitted character, despite the craziness of our irregular paths and diametrically-opposed personalities, the Lord had mercy on us and locked us up in love. It's not natural, and it looks nothing like the romance novels. To that I say, thank God.