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I think of myself and know the truth. God knows I’m not brave.
When I hear the word brave, I think of my husband. Spot on.It takes courage to take on a family. To step out in faith and say the words, marry me. And trust me I was fearful, because I saw so much ugliness in marriage as a child that I dared not hope. Pressed down that little girl dream that is dormant within every little girl’s heart. Yes, I said every little girl. We all long for the kind of faithfulness that comes from above in a man. And that is the loftiest of all dreams…dangerous, risky. But this precious, man. Long time friend has shown me his courage, again and again. In the way he gets up and goes to that job. Loves this sinner graciously. Models gentleness to this fresh chick and loves me just the way I am. Even likes me in my yuck, but sees past it. Sees something in me beautiful that I can’t see. Models, patience and true bravery while living amongst the land of drama. We two girls have our moments, and he so sweetly holds us together in love that reflects a love I feel unworthy of but oh, so grateful for. How this man loves us. And in this love I see him brave. And in this love I see Him.
I’m rambling, exhausted, but made it to my first late night FMF Party! Yippee!
See you all in the morning.
That was really fun. And awkward.