Saturday, February 5, 2011

Reason #5--he makes me strong

I remember an evening not to long ago when we found out we had bedbugs. I hardly knew what a bedbug was before I discovered our sheets were full of them. Distressed, upset, anxious--I curled up on the couch and couldn't deal with it. I needed time. I needed space. I needed strength. My man was already reading up on them, learning what to do, handling the problem, when he found me on the couch. He stopped what he was doing, wrapped his arms around me, and breathed strength into me.

Perhaps a month earlier we had gone out to visit his family. It was raining, and the car lost traction. We skid through one lane and plowed into the guardrail. The car, my first, limped slowly home before it gave up the ghost. At home I curled on the couch, trembling. Realizing that we could have lost a lot more than our vehicle. Knowing that God could have taken one of us home, that our vows "till death do us part," spoken scant weeks before, could have been fulfilled that afternoon. My man, already dealing with the insurance, stopped everything. He held me tight, whispered his love, and breathed strength into me.

When I'm weak, he is strong for me. He gives me his strength to keep my chin up, to keep on taking that next step. His love makes me strong.

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