Name this Man!

I've got to run out and finish the rest of my shopping and it will be an assortment of things. I need: a standing Rib Roast for the Christmas Day dinner, Nyquil for Alex -because he's sick with a bad cold again, more Laundry Detergent -because I have a mountain of laundry I have to do and Bill is out of clean socks, leaving for work with an old pair on this morning and nary a complaint. That blessed man of mine.

I was telling him about some of the blogs I've been reading and how interesting their lives are. One blog writer who lives on a ranch refers to her husband as Marlboro Man. I felt provoked to come up with a name that reflects my husband better. "Bill" just doesn't cut it.

"You're way more interesting than that," I told my husband, trying to explain why I needed a better name for him, at least when it came to my blog chronicles. I explained about the woman calling her husband Marlboro Man, and how I wanted a name for him that would depict him accurately in all his muscular glory and all his skill and ability.

"How about Apple Tree Man, and I could hold a gallon of cider in my one hand, flexing my arm muscles?" he asked, thinking of the Apple Orchard he'd like to have one day.

"No way," I said. "You'd sound like Johnny Appleseed. We need a name that has a tool in it because you're a remodeling machine, a man of the howling hammer and the prodigious paintbrush, a man with an eye for detail and...."

"A man who's late," he said, interrupting me, grabbing his lunch pail and running down the stairs to the garage. Minutes later I hear his truck pulling out of the driveway.

My husband just does not give a lot of thought to his image or his public persona. He is too busy working, providing, keeping his commitments to people. He has the patience of Job- and has experienced waves of financial and circumstantial loss, as Job did. Yet he is still whistling a tune, loving me when I am cranky, being firm and patient with our son, and a puddle of weakness with our daughter (I already told you she has more "dates" with her Dad than I do!).

So in spite of the Christmas presents under my tree, one of the best presents I have snores lightly next to me on cold winter nights. The gift is not just a loving, faithful husband, but the realization that I have one. It's such a keen realization, lately-I'm relieved to have wound up with him. It makes me see that canopy of grace, again, that I am under. God has flooded me with blessings- and better than that, I am getting "eyes" to see those blessings.

In spite of my old age, my vision is getting clearer.