Let Me Count the Ways.... day 2

For the 2nd day of the 12 Days of Valentine, I present to you:

PERMANENT BEER GOGGLES.

Doesn't sound too romantic. And the truth is, Jeff has never had real beer goggles for me. But it's a metaphor I use quite frequently to explain how he sees me in this strange dilluted way. He really thinks I'm pretty -- like for real (totally to the max).

If I didn't have a mirror, I would think I was hot. That's how he makes me feel. The way he treats & handles me, I'm all, wow, I must totally look like Eva Longoria. Then, I walk by a mirror, see my image, and am quickly jolted into the reality of Rosanne Barr.

And it's not just lip service he's paying me. I think he really thinks that. He still acts smitten when he sees me 'diddied up' to go on a date or for something special. We still dance in the kitchen when a slow song comes on. And our kids don't even think it's weird that we're constantly kissing, they've never known anything different.

If I were an artist, I would create a picture to show how I see this. It would have a really large pair of specs on Jeff, so large & off his face that 'we' could see the image he's seeing through his glasses. But, we could also see me standing before him, in the 'real' image.

We would see some bombshell through his glasses, then, in 'real time', we'd see, well, me.

Sometimes I wonder why. Or, what's wrong with him. He comes home most days, from being in a workplace full of teenage girls, who no doubt put hours into their appearance before coming to school. They haven't a wrinkle or a post-baby body. And, being the Godly & decent man that he is, doesn't give a second thought to that but I still think, "Um, surely there's a subconcious comparison going on."

And then, I think of how long I waited & prayed for Jeff. And maybe he was praying for me. Or maybe his mom was praying for his future wife. And I think of the nights I laid in bed alone & wondered who God had designed for me. And the weddings I'd go to, or sing in, and see happy couples & wonder when I'd be blessed. I stayed faithful to God through rough times & just prayed that my blessing would come.

And it did.

And I can't help but think this might be one of them. I don't care if you think I'm pretty. Or that you wonder why I still haven't lost the 'baby weight' from Gabe. Or if you think in your mind that I should probably change out of my pj pants before Jeff gets home.

What I do care about is what he thinks. And that he looks over at me, on the way to church after I put the final touches on my make up, and he shakes his head in disbelief. Sometimes he says, "oh, those lips." Sometimes he just squeezes my hand & asks me how he got so lucky.

I guess it's love.

Solomon 1:15 How beautiful you are, my darling, how beautiful! Your eyes are like doves.