On The Blessing of My Wife

With each passing day, I am more convinced of a simple truth: there is no more tangible evidence of God's grace in my life than is found in my wife and my girls. Thursday marked the 5 year anniversary of my first date with Abby, and it doesn't take much looking back to understand how God has used her to transform my life. I met her when I was far from the man God wanted to me to be, and if I were to define what I "deserved" at that time in my life, it certainly wasn't her. And while I'm still catching up on lost time when it comes to my relationship with God, it was without a doubt the appearance of this amazing woman which saved me in ways I'm sure I'll never fully know. I'm sorry if that sounds a tad melodramatic, but I know it's true. I also know I cannot fully describe how blessed I feel, but I'll make a brief, if insufficient, attempt.

There is a part of my day that has become my favorite, and I hesitate to share it simply because it is so simple. We live in a home with a detached garage, one that is behind the house, on an alley. We park our cars in the garage, and walk through the back yard to the back door, through which is our kitchen. Every day after work, I call home when I'm on my way (if Abby doesn't call me first, wondering where I am). Most days, I'll talk to Annie to ask how her nap was or to get her version of whatever story Abby has just told me. Annie will ask if I'm on my way, and I know that she will be waiting at the back window. When I finally do get home, unless I've taken too long, she will be standing there, on a chair, watching for me to emerge into the back yard. It is this moment that has become my favorite. It's the silhouette of a little girl standing on a chair, first looking intently, then jumping up and down as I approach. She is so adamant about making sure the chair is out of the way by the time I reach the house so I can come in ASAP.

I mention this scene not just because it is a personal "moment" I spend with my daughter, but because it speaks to how much I've been given, especially in the person of my wife. As I make my way up the walk on those days, I get to step into a great life, one made possible by all that Abby does. Abby spends the long and exhausting day with the girls, telling Annie "no" for the 1000th time, knowing for the 1001st time that Annie will ignore her warning, changing diapers, potty training, cleaning spit-up (at least a 20 time an hour job with our babies), stepping over toys, stepping on toys, picking up a crying two- year old who cannot seem to not trip over toys, dealing with said two-year old's ever-developing sense of entitlement, making lunches and snacks, dealing with two-year old who requested peas but now acts as if said peas are poisoned, coordinating naps, dealing with 3-month old who rolls so much in bed that she seems to be training for an Olympic event, hauling 2 girls and 3 bags in and out of the car for the simplest trip to the store or grandmommy's or a play date, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc. --

Abby does all this and more, and I get to come home and see an little girl jump up and down because she is so happy to see her dad. I get to come into the house and play Memory and Candyland. I get to build towers out of Mega Blocks, and play hide and seek, and I get to hear her giggle uncontrollably when I jump out of the kitchen and chase her into the living room. I get to read books about furry red monsters, and watch videos about talking trains. I get to hold a beautiful baby girl and watch her smile as she recognizes my face. I get to pray with them and sing songs with them and talk about all of the fun things that they did that day. I get to do all of fun stuff that Abby never really got to do, or at least I'm sure could not really enjoy, because she was too busy taking care of us all.

It's a small example of how blessed I am to have her in my life. Thanks for all you are for us, Abby.