Linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five Minute Friday….
He does the hard stuff. He does the heavy stuff. He does so many things I wouldn’t want to do. And things I’m glad I don’t have to do.
He knows how to weld and work on machinery and fix things. He sees things from angles I wouldn’t consider.
He knows how to hook up equipment and take soil samples and figure spray rates and fertilizer.
He deals with farm details that come second nature and that I still don’t understand or pay attention to, even after almost seventeen years. {Sometimes I know he’s shaking his head at me because one would think I really would remember… 🙂 }
He lends a hand and helps other people.
He wrestles with our son. I don’t.
He leaves socks on the bedroom floor. And shirts and pants. He rarely does dishes, but never does he leave the toilet seat up.
He hangs pictures and fixes broken toilet handles.
He maneuvers tractors and machinery and equipment effortlessly it seems. He drives his Peterbilt in places that would have me hyper-ventilating. {Just having to drive the truck, would have me hyper-ventilating.} { Just backing our C-65 out of the shed breaks me out in a cold sweat and takes a LONG time.} {THIS with my son guiding me.}
He plays a mean game of pool. I’m doing good to connect when I aim and shoot the ball.
His daughter is his princess. His punky doodle.
He has games on his phone because of his son.
He starts vehicles when it’s cold out. He ventures outside and I get to stay in where it’s warm. He works hard and does jobs he doesn’t love mixed among the parts of his work that he does love and enjoy. He provides and I’ve never doubted that whatever comes, he will work at something to care for us.
He’s farmer and oil well pumper and hired hand and carpenter and mechanic and Mr. Fix-it and husband and daddy. Plus, all the other hats and titles that don’t always rise above the surface to be seen.
He makes me laugh and he forgives me when I am grumpy.
He easily runs a cordless screwdriver or a table saw.
He does these things and myriads of other things, that too often I overlook or don’t appreciate nearly enough.
He likes to spend time with us, his family. He’s all too glad to have one of us ride along on errands and deliveries.
He serves.
He loves God and he loves us.
He’s all these things for us and more and he’s our hero.
Because heroism isn’t always all about blazing glory and fanfare and awards in front of crowds. Heroism sometimes is the quiet, steady rhythm found in duty and integrity.
And sometimes we overlook the heroes closest to us because we get caught up in the daily grind and the negatives and the socks on the bedroom floor instead of focusing on the warm vehicle and the laughter and commitment of doing life together.
Hero: a person who is admired for great or brave acts or fine qualities; a person who is greatly admired.
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Praising God for blessing my daughter with a good, Godly, loving man. We are proud to have him in our family.
I have a lump in my throat after reading this. Thanks for the reminder of all the good things our men do for us. We are so blessed – we both married wonderful heros who are men of God. That isn’t something to take lightly. Praise God for our wonderful husbands!
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