Do any of you have a world of difficulty buying cards for the love of your life? I do. Here are three reasons why:
“I am so lucky”… I am already reading the prospective cards as I pull them out of the display case. As soon as I uncover the “I am so lucky” line I drop the card with a plunk back in its slot. I am not lucky. I am blessed beyond measure by a merciful and all-knowing God who gently tore up my future wife wish list and led me to the woman who is far more than I could ever have hoped for or imagined.
“I know I don’t tell you enough”…Can we ever say I love you too much? But even if I have been remiss in saying that most meaningful phrase, deferring my apology to a card writer at Hallmark Headquarters in Kansas City, Missouri four times a year (Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Birthday, and Anniversary Day) is an act of cowardice. If I sent her one of those $6.99 apologies, I would advise her to go down the street to that third grade neighborhood boy, have him fold my card into a paper airplane (all boys know how to do this), and come back home and fly that sucker right in my face.
This last reason is more subtle, but I believe it reflects a cultural drift that I find lamentable. So many cards these days say things like, when I get really tired, you understand, when things get mixed up in my head, you listen, when I have had a hard day, you are there, etc, etc, etc… Understanding, listening, and being there are all great. But the substance of those cards is not really about her. It is all about me and what she can do for me. My wife, the Lexus dealer. When my car is hurting you listen to me, give me coffee and a loaner, fix the car, and smile at me when you hand over the keys. My wife, the full service provider.
What I really want Brynn to know is that I think she is a genius, a wonderful mother, a gifted writer, singer, player, chef, carpenter, creator, worshipper, the list goes on and on and I am not making any of it up. I want her to know that she is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I do want to tell her even more often that I love her. But I definitely am not lucky. Just grateful beyond words. Now if I could just find a card to say all that…
Imagine my surprise when entering the garage one morning I am greeted by a chorus from a four voice youth choir! There they were, tucked in their nest high up on a storage shelf, four baby wrens warbling away like aviary opera stars. How in the world did they get there? How did Mama Wren discreetly twig by twig assemble their balcony home? I am certain beyond doubt that I never loaned her a key or garage door opener.
Turns out she had help from another source. Oh, those chippies! Apparently one chipmunk with an attitude decided that his hole in the ground was just not opulent enough for his regal tastes. So little King Chopper chewed a small hole in the bottom corner of our garage door to gain access to his new climate-controlled castle. Mama Wren spied the secret passageway and said, ah, I think I’ll nab the penthouse with a view, thank you very much!
She needed an ally. You might too. Is there someone who could help you with your dream? A friend? A fellow dreamer, creator, someone willing to work hand in hand, twig by twig, to build or birth something amazing where no one else could imagine?
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