There is laundry piled on the dining room table and dirty dishes in the sink.
You eat in.
You talk about the kids during dinner.
It isn't about candlelight and roses.
But there is something so much better.
The kind of love that endures all things.
The kind of love that lasts.
I have a memory of Aaron that might be my most favorite memory of him. James was only a few months old. He was sick with his first ear infection and very fussy. He was up over and over again, all night long. I was exhausted.
He cried out again and I went to him. I took him to the couch to nurse him for what seemed the hundredth time that night. I wanted to cry right along with him.
Aaron came to us and asked, "what can I do?"
I was a new Mommy and thought I had to do it all myself.
"Nothing!" I answered. "No one can do anything but me!"
It feels that way when you are a new Mom. You feel alone. You have never been so tired in your life and this thing that you waited so long for is much, much more than you bargained for.
Instead of saying, "fine!" and going back to bed, Aaron sat down in the dark, on the floor, at my feet. And he took my foot in his hands and began to rub. I wouldn't let him help me, so he did what he could. I, of course, began to cry and he sat there and rubbed my feet without saying a word.
Aaron has done so many spectacular things for me, but I will never forget that moment.
Because that moment is the real stuff. Because life isn't always romantic. Sometimes it's a baby crying in the middle of the night. Or something much, much harder.
And you can't make it through without real love.
This kind of love.
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails." 1 Corinthians 13:4-8