One Saturday morning not long ago I dragged myself out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. George and Jacob were already sitting at the dining room table eating breakfast. I got my bowl of Raisin Nut Bran and glass of orange juice, joined the guys, and turned my attention to the morning paper.
To fully appreciate this story, you need a better visual. Allow me to describe my morning loveliness. Having conformed to the pressures of a persistent pillow, my hair was mashed in some places and erupting violently in others. My pale-yet-blotchy complexion might best be described as, “Maybe she was born with it, but it sure ain’t Maybelline.” Baggy, plaid PJ pants and a grey T-shirt completed the, um, “look.”
I was munching my cereal and contemplating the literary quality of small-town journalistic efforts when I sensed someone looking at me. I glanced up. George, who had been reading his Bible, gazed at me with tears in his eyes.
I swallowed a bite of Raisin Nut Bran. “What?”
“I’m just so amazed by the beautiful gift God has given me in you. Sometimes I can’t believe it.”
I laughed. “I think you need a new glasses prescription.”
“No. I’m serious.”
He was, too. So, what I’m wondering is, why didn’t I ask him what passage he’d been reading in the Bible? Something must have stirred his thoughts in that direction, and I have a pretty good idea what it wasn’t.
Hopefully he’ll remember. He may need to return to those verses when he gets his new glasses.
Through the eyes of love …
They say that love is blind, but that’s not true. Love, if anything gives you much sharper eyes.
Looking through the eyes of love, you see things that no one else can, not even the one you’re looking at. There was a girl, not too very long ago, that I loved, I loved to look at. She was simply amazing (still is I imagine). The way that light fell upon her face, the shadows it made as it caressed her neck, her cheeks, the way her lips met her coffee cup. The sky blue of her eyes. There was not a thing I did not adore about her … and she could never figure out how beautiful she was. Or what I saw for that matter.
My (free) advice?(which is typically worth what you pay for it) Don’t sweat it. Accept it, and know that he can see things in you that you can’t even dream of.
Through the eyes of love …
They say that love is blind, but that’s not true. Love, if anything gives you much sharper eyes.
Looking through the eyes of love, you see things that no one else can, not even the one you’re looking at. There was a girl, not too very long ago, that I loved, I loved to look at. She was simply amazing (still is I imagine). The way that light fell upon her face, the shadows it made as it caressed her neck, her cheeks, the way her lips met her coffee cup. The sky blue of her eyes. There was not a thing I did not adore about her … and she could never figure out how beautiful she was. Or what I saw for that matter.
My (free) advice?(which is typically worth what you pay for it) Don’t sweat it. Accept it, and know that he can see things in you that you can’t even dream of.
Re: Through the eyes of love …
You’re right, Allen. And I do accept it. George wasn’t looking at my mashed hair or bleary expression. He was looking at 25 years of companionship, the wife of his youth and mother of his children, the one who has loved him, prayed for him, laughed with him, and cried with him. I know this, and even though I joked about it here, I’m amazed and thankful. We’ve been through a lot together — better, worse, richer, poorer, sickness, health. We’ve covered just about all the bases except “till death do us part.” Hopefully that one is still a long way off.
Thanks for your encouraging words. The check is in the mail. 😉
♥
Re: Through the eyes of love …
You’re right, Allen. And I do accept it. George wasn’t looking at my mashed hair or bleary expression. He was looking at 25 years of companionship, the wife of his youth and mother of his children, the one who has loved him, prayed for him, laughed with him, and cried with him. I know this, and even though I joked about it here, I’m amazed and thankful. We’ve been through a lot together — better, worse, richer, poorer, sickness, health. We’ve covered just about all the bases except “till death do us part.” Hopefully that one is still a long way off.
Thanks for your encouraging words. The check is in the mail. 😉
♥
In more ways than one
You’re amazing.
In more ways than one
You’re amazing.
Re: Through the eyes of love …
I bet’cha were cute anyway. 😉
Re: Through the eyes of love …
I bet’cha were cute anyway. 😉
Re: In more ways than one
Yeah … she really is.
Re: In more ways than one
Yeah … she really is.
Re: Through the eyes of love …
I didn’t get that you were kiddin.’ I’ll cash the check anyway though! 🙂 Tuck the encouragement away for a rainy day, eh?
Re: Through the eyes of love …
I didn’t get that you were kiddin.’ I’ll cash the check anyway though! 🙂 Tuck the encouragement away for a rainy day, eh?
Re: In more ways than one
Thanks, Steffy! I’m excited to see your amazing self soon. And the painting! That’s so cool. Can’t wait.
♥
Re: In more ways than one
Thanks, Steffy! I’m excited to see your amazing self soon. And the painting! That’s so cool. Can’t wait.
♥
Re: In more ways than one
I think you are one hot mama, Jeanne! All the world thinks so, even people in France.
Mary
Re: In more ways than one
I think you are one hot mama, Jeanne! All the world thinks so, even people in France.
Mary
The French Connection
Is that so? How many people in France? 😉
The French Connection
Is that so? How many people in France? 😉
Through the eyes of love
Okay, I’m gonna try posting a reply, but I feeling very much like the way I did when someone switched the card catalogue to a computer in the library and I felt like I was the only 26 year old on the planet who didn’t have the first clue as to how to use the darn thing. That was a long time ago, but old feelings die hard. Especially feelings surrounding my computer/internet capabilities. I’m posting anonymously, like you told me to, my seester. I chose this particular entry for my very first live journal response because it struck me as amazing that I have exactly the same sleeping ensemble as you do, red plaid flannel pajama pants and a lovely gray t-shirt to round out the “look”. I also have the same hair style in the morning and sometimes forget to fill in the holes before walking James to the bus stop. I stand on the corner waving to passing cars, feeling cute and adorable, oblivious to the fact that the smiles on everyone’s faces as they pass by might actually be suppressed laughter. (I have by this time replaced the PJ ensemble with jeans and a sweater, but the hairdo is still firmly in place.) I guess natural beauty of this kind must be genetic. Well, the crucial time has arrived and I will now attempt to post this comment. I hope this works out better than my library experience. I never found my book and ran crying from the library, to the wrong parking level, but that’s another story. Lois
Through the eyes of love
Okay, I’m gonna try posting a reply, but I feeling very much like the way I did when someone switched the card catalogue to a computer in the library and I felt like I was the only 26 year old on the planet who didn’t have the first clue as to how to use the darn thing. That was a long time ago, but old feelings die hard. Especially feelings surrounding my computer/internet capabilities. I’m posting anonymously, like you told me to, my seester. I chose this particular entry for my very first live journal response because it struck me as amazing that I have exactly the same sleeping ensemble as you do, red plaid flannel pajama pants and a lovely gray t-shirt to round out the “look”. I also have the same hair style in the morning and sometimes forget to fill in the holes before walking James to the bus stop. I stand on the corner waving to passing cars, feeling cute and adorable, oblivious to the fact that the smiles on everyone’s faces as they pass by might actually be suppressed laughter. (I have by this time replaced the PJ ensemble with jeans and a sweater, but the hairdo is still firmly in place.) I guess natural beauty of this kind must be genetic. Well, the crucial time has arrived and I will now attempt to post this comment. I hope this works out better than my library experience. I never found my book and ran crying from the library, to the wrong parking level, but that’s another story. Lois
Re: Through the eyes of love
Good job, Lois! You won’t have to run crying to the wrong parking level this time.
The genetic beauty is so abundant it’s out of control. (That’s my excuse.)
I’m glad you decided to come to my livejournal party! Do come again.
Your baby seestro,
E to the Z
Re: Through the eyes of love
Good job, Lois! You won’t have to run crying to the wrong parking level this time.
The genetic beauty is so abundant it’s out of control. (That’s my excuse.)
I’m glad you decided to come to my livejournal party! Do come again.
Your baby seestro,
E to the Z
How sweet!
This made my heart smile. Isn’t it amazing that the times that you are really feeling (in a nice way of putting it) Not so great about yourself, God lays out in front of you the most incredible feelings, Something so out of the blue that you never expected… And you just feel so incredibly beautiful that you find yourself smiling for days.
I loved this.
Kelly
How sweet!
This made my heart smile. Isn’t it amazing that the times that you are really feeling (in a nice way of putting it) Not so great about yourself, God lays out in front of you the most incredible feelings, Something so out of the blue that you never expected… And you just feel so incredibly beautiful that you find yourself smiling for days.
I loved this.
Kelly
George is a lucky man who is also wise to appreciate a wonderful wife, and mom. I feel the same way just having you as a friend. jbf
George is a lucky man who is also wise to appreciate a wonderful wife, and mom. I feel the same way just having you as a friend. jbf
Re: How sweet!
Thanks, Kelly! So nice to hear from you. :o)
Re: How sweet!
Thanks, Kelly! So nice to hear from you. :o)
If anyone has the friendship thing down, it’s you. Thanks for commenting here, JBF. I’m pleased and honored.
If anyone has the friendship thing down, it’s you. Thanks for commenting here, JBF. I’m pleased and honored.