Spotting God at Home

Grateful for a Grace-ful Marriage
(Note as of September 3: Last night when I should have been sleeping after a long first-day-back-at-work-after-vacation and fun anniversary celebration in the evening, instead I lay awake thinking about this post. I have decided that it really needs an illustrative example to flesh out the laundry list I provided yesterday. Please scroll to the bottom, just above the scripture verse, to see today’s addition to this post. It’s in italics.)

Today Rich and I celebrate our second wedding anniversary. It dawned on me this morning, as I was contemplating the occasion, that I see God’s hand on our lives every day as we go about living our marriage.

A few examples:

  • Rich meets me in calm and thoughtful discussions when we have a difference of opinion about a situation or pending decision.
  • He joins me in thinking of “the kids” instead of “your kids” and “my kids.” Ditto the grandchildren. And parents. And siblings.
  • He leaves work at the office and makes God and family his priorities at home.
  • Rich turns off the television to engage with me when I have something on my heart.
  • We laugh together.
  • He shares with me and sacrifices for me.
  • He is my rock in times of crisis.
  • He is unfailingly patient with me.

Anyone who, like me, is blessed with a godly husband, spots God and His grace every day. And on this day, I count those blessings.

Addition on September 3:

In a previous post, I wrote about Rich’s direction that I should return to my ill mother’s side, even though I had just spent several days with her. I mentioned that he agreed to manage our four-year-old grandson’s planned visit singlehandedly so I could return, and that he took the older boy to our younger grandson’s second birthday party.

Details of how that weekend and the days that followed played out illustrate the characteristics I listed here yesterday.

First, he took Friday off from work and drove to Redlands to collect Ayden, our older grandson, who had been promised a weekend at our home. Then he and Ayden came to my office to take me to the airport. Ayden was disappointed that Grandma would not be home for the planned weekend, and at four years of age he did not feel particularly constrained to keep his disappointment to himself.

When we checked my bag, the woman at the counter put a luggage tag on his wrist. Then he and Rich accompanied me to the line for the security screening. Ayden wanted to come with me. When we explained that he needed a ticket to pass that point, he pointed to the luggage tag and said, “But I have a ticket!” Despite the tugging at my heartstrings, I said my goodbyes and left Grandpa to deal with the disappointed child.

Rich and Ayden returned to the car, then Rich drove him to a point where he could watch through a chain-link fence as Grandma’s plane took off.

This was the weekend that culminated in my mother’s final hospitalization and the news that her death was imminent. I called home early; I called home late; I called home so tearfully that it was difficult to make out my words. Rich managed to field all those calls in a way that comforted me without distressing our grandson with his words.

On Sunday he drove to San Diego with Ayden to attend Cadence’s second birthday party. The situation at my parents’ home was changing by the hour and I called frequently with updates. Again, Rich managed to comfort me without destroying the festive atmosphere of a child’s birthday party. He also remembered to take plenty of photos for me.

Ayden returned home from the party with his family, who had driven from Redlands to attend, and Rich headed home. He had just arrived there when we called the ambulance to transport Mom to the hospital. The phone calls from me to him continued until late at night.

Very early the next morning, I called him yet again. He asked me if I would like him to join me in Nevada. I told him, “I’m too tired to make decisions. You decide.” By two P.M. on Monday, he was at Mom’s bedside.

That entire weekend, Rich managed to care for Ayden, entertain him, attend Cadence’s birthday party and talk with me in my despair. Then, with little sleep, he drove nine hours to be by my side at my mother’s deathbed. Never once did he utter a sharp word nor complain about the frequency and timing of my calls to him.

This weekend, coincidentally, fell within two days of a tragic anniversary–the death of Ayden’s father and Rich’s firstborn son, Sean, in 2006. Despite his obligation to care for our grandson, my sometimes-unintelligble babble, and his own grief and pain, Rich was steadfast in his loving support at this challenging time. Then he set aside his own exhaustion to drive several hours to join me.

That’s what I’m talking about.

25 For husbands, this means love your wives, just as Christ loved the church.
He gave up his life for her 26 to make her holy and clean, washed by the
cleansing of God’s word 27 He did this to present her to himself as a
glorious church without a spot or wrinkle or any other blemish. Instead, she
will be holy and without fault. 28 In the same way, husbands ought to love
their wives as they love their own bodies. For a man who loves his wife
actually shows love for himself. 29 No one hates his own body but feeds and
cares for it, just as Christ cares for the church. 30 And we are members of
his body.

Ephesians 5:25-30 (NLT)


  1. I think perhaps I am more of a 'B' student in this regard.

  2. Well, I was writing within the context of us both being imperfect humans, who nonetheless do our best to walk with Christ and be godly.

    And in that regard, my love, I give you an A+++.