I think people knew since I began to show my personality as a child that it would take someone extra special to marry me. I have always danced to the beat of my own drum. (if you can even call that dancing) I lack tact, social graces, and really any etiquette, despite my parents’ best efforts. My health is a handful to say the least. I’m a control freak, nail-biter, list-maker, nerd, and hypochondriac. Put me in any life circumstance with those traits, and it doesn’t normally end up well.
But this post isn’t about me. I’m writing this to tell you about the Ginger that I’m married to.
I don’t appreciate him nearly enough. People rarely get to see how much of himself he pours into his patients, his kids, and his life. Daily he performs tasks that make up the mundane, but never requires recognition. He is so much the opposite of myself. To say he completes me would be very accurate, but I would only admit to that on the days he doesn’t drive me crazy. Our polar personalities bring balance to our life and to others when we are working to compliment each other. I would assume that is true of most marriages. Anyone who has been married or even dating for any length of time knows that either your other half is working as your other half, or is someone that you don’t want to work with because they’re too different from yourself. Jonathon and I are either on the same page, working and living in tandem, or we aren’t even reading the same stinking book.
And then there were kids. Not just any kids. Kids that have had rough, awful, unfortunate lives from day 1. Kids that need more love, attention, support, and advocacy than others. We have had to learn a lot, really fast about how our marriage works in our few years at Thornwell. Thinking of how overwhelming that has been brings up so many emotions for me. Then I think of that crazy guy who married me. If I’m honest, the ups and downs, the ins and outs, the roller-coaster that our life with children has been, it’s all me. I’ve been all over the place, figuring out who I am, where I’m going, what is happening. And I’ve got The Rock over here playing with kids in the yard, cleaning up every type of bodily fluid, and picking up pizza for dinner.
It is so clear the parallels between Christ’s love and my husband’s love for me. His patience, stability, and sacrificial love allow me to function, just like Jesus. Even on the days that I try so hard to give him a break or help him or appreciate him, I still fail. I’m still crazy or I still get frustrated, and I still make him do the work. Most days I prep statements to him with “I know I make your life miserable but could you please. . .”. Like the stable, calm, controlled person he is, he replies “No you don’t, but yes I can”. I imagine Jesus saying that to me over and over again.
Jonathon, no one ever thought you were so emotional or had so much to say until you met me. Thank you for choosing to love me. You always give me what I want (even on the days I don’t demand it). You will make me laugh until the day I die. Our life wouldn’t work without you in it. Your hard work never goes unnoticed. You’re my part-time lover, full-time friend, Sampson.
Too bad you can’t be my soulmate. You’d have to have a soul first. Also, I have horrible grammar in this post. So don’t even start.