Two weekends in a row. One duchess last weekend and the other one this weekend. I took the younger one home today. She was here three nights. One night isn’t enough. Three nights is pushing it for my energy. Two nights is usually just right. We will see both of them next Saturday, Lord willing.
I have had one of them for ten or twelve nights last year. I don’t recall just how many. We did well only because I didn’t push to try to do all the fun things in two days. I have so many ideas and so much ambition to make their time with me as fun as possible, I try to cram too much in too little time.
One of the funny things about the girls: One has recently gotten an Alexa in the house. It was a bonus gift with a large purchase her folks had made. She loves to tell it to play songs for her to dance and sing. This weekend with the other one, we had washed and dried her hair and I put it up in a looping pony before bed. She asked me to take a picture with my phone so she could see how it looked.
They are children of their time in the world. Just as I was when it was my time and their parents were in their time. What us older folks worry about as being too modern, too fancy, too whatever, they will cherish as the good old days someday.
They will manage their world in a way we can’t because it is what they know. What wonderful lives they will live! Just as we have in a world so different from our grandparents’ world.
Faith, not fear. Love and hope and dreams and Jesus. That is what I want to help them see. This Raining Orchids has become my “picture” for them to some day look and see how much they are loved and how important they are. And for my friends, family and my Rock to know how precious they are to me, too. The Lord already knows.
A lot of men think they are tough. They think they can handle anything life throws at them with a wave of their hand. When things do get tough, they back off. They hide behind the guise of being civilized or well-mannered. Most hide behind fear of repercussions. Some hide behind a wife, letting her muddle through and then they can sit back and believe they could have done it better if she hadn’t interfered.
I know a man who is tough. He is Rambo with a machine gun slung over his shoulder with barrel blasting tough. He is the beast in the front of the pack when it is time to kill. He has a throwback hardness to him that harkens to the days of hand-to-hand combat with swords and knives, Braveheart fashion. If he believes you are loyal to him, he will do battle with Hell for you. No dragon is too fierce for him to face. If he senses a lack of loyalty, he will throw you to the dogs. With no remorse.
His is the type of man who caught hold of the first ship heading west to new unknown lands. The same type who forged through the swamps of the coast, the forests further inland and the mountains and plains that lay beyond. Seeking a place without class restrictions, without societal rules. His type herded cattle up dusty death filled trails. A payday and a good meal his reward. To have gotten the job done, his reward. To have survived when others fell, his reward. He binds his wounds with his own will to move forward. He has no back down in him. He raised children with no back down in them.
He has a temper and sometimes a short fuse. He has no patience and no desire to develop any. He yields only when he chooses. His is an iron will. Webster’s has his picture next to “stubborn”. He has on more than one occasion told me “They can’t eat me.” He respects inner strength and power. He expects people to show up and to do what needs doing. He rubs people the wrong way because he calls them out on their façade. He is not impressed with wealth or social position or education or political power. He guards himself and his small tribe closely and fiercely. Tread near with caution.
There is another side to him. He loves Jesus. He loves his children and their children. In fact, all children love him. Baby whisperer, I call him. Babies and children love him at first site. He says it is because they have the same priorities. Eat, play, sleep. That is true. If he sees someone in trouble, he reaches out to help. He can’t stand to see vulnerable people be left to the wolves.
He isn’t sentimental or romantic. Not for him moonlit strolls on the beach or candlelit dinners at some special place. The first has mosquitoes and the second is just plain silly to him. He wants to see his food when he eats. He did allow our children to subject him to a vow renewal for our 30th anniversary seven years ago. He would never be mistaken for a gentleman. He is out spoken and tough. Yet, I do have a collection of love letters and jewelry and a jeep among other things.
Despite his own personal tragedies, he lives life full throttle. He expects everyone to do the same. His world is clear cut and black and white. No gray areas. He is rock solid. He is the man God gave me. He relies on the Solid Rock and I rely on my Rock. If a dragon comes my way, he is the one who kills it. He is not afraid to do what real beasts do. If he even thinks someone is messing with his children, he loads up for warfare. He will charge the gates of Hell to protect them. Anyone who causes them distress is at risk of his charge.
When I am faced with tragedy and heartbreak, he stands in the gap between me and engulfing despair. He puts me in check with his immovable stand of faith. Yes, he experiences concern over situations; he flips a switch and it goes right up in the flames of faith filled prayer. I would have completely destroyed myself by now without him. Others laugh and wonder how I “put up” with him. I don’t know how he “puts up” with me. He makes me want to be stronger, tougher, braver. He makes me want to live life full throttle. To laugh at the dragons and wave them off with my hand. To send fear up in the flames of faith filled prayer. Until that time comes, I will lean on him for protection, for courage, for intercession.
He is a beast. He is a warrior. He is a battle-scarred man who loves God. He is tough, hard and full of love. I am so blessed to call him mine. And so blessed to be his.
Raining Orchids 