I struggle with housework. I find it overwhelming. I think if I ignore it, all those dishes, dirty clothes, dusty shelves will miraculously go away.
And more often than not, they do.
The miracle worker is my long suffering husband. He is incredible. And he is mine.
The sink below was piled high with dishes from last night’s cooking. They’re now being washed in the dishwasher as I type.
I looked at him with guilt, awe, and gratitude this morning as he went about quietly clearing it.
It’s our twentieth anniversary today.
For twenty years he’s nagged me, looked after me, cared for our son. He’s been there while I struggled with my health. He’s been there when I’ve recovered.
He has been a rock through life’s ups and downs. Steady and reliable. And I am so very grateful for him.
To think I was terrified of dating him. I guess it was because I knew deep down we would end up sharing life together.
He’s taken me on a great adventure. We’re raising a child together. We’ve packed up our family and followed him half way around the world. We’ve been there as he’s worked hard to build his career, cheering him on through the frustrations and small victories. We’re now travelling to different countries, seeing more of this incredible world God has created.
It’s been a remarkable twenty years with him.
And not just because I find housework challenging.
For Bloganuary – Day 12. What chore do you find the most challenging to do?