Mr. Grace Face
A few days ago, I got one of those Facebook memory reminders (“On this day 10 years ago”). It was a post I’d written about how thankful I was that I have a husband who would go out late on a Saturday night to buy me boloney just because his wife had a spontaneous fried boloney sandwich craving (an “SFBSC”). I was about to (re)post this memory and add the words “And now, I’ve collected another ten years of evidence that the little things are the big things.” I didn’t do it because it seemed like a humblebrag. Like, “look how #blessed I am, how lucky I am, how good I have it, how special… blah blah blah.” It made me a tick nauseous. I initially wanted to post it because that boloney memory triggered a cavalcade of thankfulness because John is currently working tirelessly (although he IS tired) on a big project for our family, so knowing that truth, combined with the sweet boloney-run memory got me all humbly verklempt. And I wanted to share. But then I didn’t.
He’s not a perfect man. He puts one sock on at a time. I’m not a perfect wife. We don’t have a perfect life. I hope THIS doesn’t sound like a humblebrag.
I don’t mean it to be.
It’s partly about the-little-things-are-the-big-things and the-big-things-are-the-little- things. It’s partly about commitment and putting-your-back-into-it type of effort. It’s about gratitude. It’s mostly about getting what you don’t deserve: Grace.
Early this morning, I watched John in an online interview. It was for his job. He’d sent me the link a few days ago, but I didn’t watch until today.
I saw his handsome face and I started crying. I was completely blindsided by my tears. Then when he spoke, I just kept inexplicably crying. I think because he’s just so. So good. Even the moderator said that he’d buy anything from John. (I usually do.) I was/am so proud of him. He’s kind of a jack of all trades and master at the-big-and-the-little-things. He can run to Ralph’s at 10:30 on a Saturday night for boloney and he can tear down walls and renovate a basement. All for love. It makes me think of the Adele song:
“I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn’t do
Go to the ends of the Earth for you
To make you feel my love”
I did nothing to deserve this love. I just had a crush on a boy.
He’s got one shoe on, one shoe off. He’s a fine work in progress, but he’s also Jesus with skin on. And his face is one of grace.