Threads

"You are beautiful, Chelsey, my wife," he says.

Tears come too quickly to brush away. He holds me.

A held hand, a soft touch, a gentle kiss are found in my day. He sees me.

Stretch marks, areas exercise has neglected, wrinkles forming. He sees me beautiful.

Neglected dishes, laundry basket mountains, jobs left undone. Mama tempers, regretful words, silent shouts. He still loves me.

He is God's thumb print in my life. Nothing close to God in any way, he is a doorway for God's love and grace. Each day the grace he shows me is a taste of the grace that abounds from Christ. The love that he has for me is a thread of the love my Savoir has for me.

I am breathless.

My husband is a gift, a tangible relation whom I can share God's love with. May the love I have for him be a reflection of God. May I also be a door in which God's love walks through into this world.

When the day's end comes and things have been left undone and sorrys were not said, may I drink deep of Christ's grace. May the threads of love found in my day be woven together into the blanket of His rich love.

I am blessed.