I was in the bread aisle when my husband called me. He needed me to buy band-aids and gauze and some medical tape. That’s never a good thing. My three year old had fallen in the bathroom and had a pretty nasty gash on her chin. I got the items and headed to the check out but, wouldn’t you know it, every lane was backed up.
He texted me, Quickly, please. Mercy.
I picked a lane and watched as the cashier and the bagger made small talk and the customer questioned the price of the watermelon. The mama bear in me wanted to tell them that my baby needed me and they had about ten seconds before it got all ugly up in there. I restrained myself, however, and paid for my items. Then, I ran like a crazy woman to my car.
When I got home, my little one was sitting on the kitchen counter with dried blood all over her. My sweet honey, a.k.a. her daddy, was playing doctor and, of course, had everything under control. I’m not embarrassed to say that I fell in love with that man all over again. These moments, the behind the scenes things that he does for our family, that is true romance. See, I don’t need a Hollywood leading man. I just need a godly man who leads.
The world will tell us otherwise. Romance movies and novels set unrealistic expectations in the hearts of women. The reality is, however, that what the world offers up as romantic loses its luster somewhere around the second kid. If we are smart we will realize that, while a three piece suit and some cologne are great, there isn’t anything hotter than a man playing beauty parlor and washing his little girl’s hair in the kitchen sink.
Don’t listen to the lies of Satan. You know the ones I’m talking about.
I bet her husband doesn’t leave his socks in the floor.
I promise you, he does.
Why can’t I be whisked away for a romantic getaway like in the movies?
Listen closely. Those are actors. It. is. not. real. life.
He doesn’t buy me flowers as often as he used to buy them.
That’s probably true. And you probably don’t shave your legs as often. Am I right?
My point is that there are stages in life. There is the dating, door holding, bringing flowers stage. Then, there is also the husband who is willing to go to the store and buy your feminine products stage and one stage is no more or less romantic than the other.
Stacy Edwards (@sjedwards) is a trucker’s daughter and a pastor’s wife. She is a freelance writer and a homeschooling mom to four fabulous little girls. Stacy blogs at Servant’s Life where she uses her words to point others to the hope and encouragement found in Christ. If you need her, she’s probably hiding in the bathroom.