Bees in My Bonnet

  It didn’t happen all at once, like in the fairy tales. By it, I mean love. Not what people think of when they think ‘love.’ Not the love that flutters the heart and weakens the knees. The love grew over time when the caught breath and hormonal impulses had found their proper place, behind the choice and mature yielding of the soul to another.  The man loved his woman until it ached. He got up each day, though weary and less than thrilled with his daily labours, and set out to win the bread for the home, wife, and children. The job was interesting on some level. It suited his gifts, a luxury to be sure. In the early days he had resented having to work. How much he’d rather fill his life with more meaning, more purpose, more self-pursuits. But he loved his woman, his family. He needed to serve their needs before his whims. He dedicated himself to providing, and it was his privilege to do so.  He might have pursued a perfect life, where every endeavour was perfectly suited...

 Yesterday I was tired...you know, the kind of tired where you have 20 minutes before picking up the kids and you wish you could just lie down and take a nap. Thankfully, I have a friend who lives just near school, so I went to see if I could just lie down for a quick rest. And we got to talking. She happens to be single (and available!!) and shares her longing for a husband."I do still have this deep longing - but when I pour my heart out to God and I realize He sees me, and His love is precious to me, I tell Him, 'I still want a husband, but I want this deep connection with You more.'" She shares her journey - her ups and downs, how she moves from anger over being single, with a 4 year-old, to grieving what isn't, what is missing: the husband, the father for her child. This grief moves her to union with the Heavenly Father Who sees her. Who knows what is missing. And Who can hear the anger, the hurt, the longing and hold it all - Whose Son holds it all in outstr...

So, I'm stuck in the middle of the story - sorry folks, I'll continue in due time. I just don't know why it always gets a week past the burglary and I'm befuddled as to how to explain that we got engaged just a short 5 weeks later. I mean, it is taking me longer to write it than it took to happen. I do intend to continue. Call it writers' block. Pregnancy brain. Four kids, a mother-in-law and a husband on a business trip. This, I tell myself, is not the time to update the blog. So thank you for indulging me, and being patient. Just to give you a preview of coming attractions, Sam did not really have an interest in me for the first two weeks after the burglary. Sounds like not a long time, I know, but at the time when I look back I didn't know it would only be two weeks. I thought he would be another in a long line of my 'hopefuls' (me being the hopeful one). Maybe it wasn't such a long line. There had actually only been 2 or 3 in my life...