More than you know

Love this man.

It’s those eyes; a little thoughtful with the brows a bit crinkled a that speck of light that too many miss when he’s asking a question or sitting under words. It’s that mouth; usually with a corner turned slightly up, unlike my own lips with a corner slightly down. It’s those hands; so rough and weathered from the work of this year, so gentle with his sons, carrying so much.
I love this man. I love how I’m realizing it more and more these days.
I snapped this picture on the way out the door to a wedding this weekend. We can’t remember the last time we got cleaned up like this. Ha, his shirt sleeves are actually too short now, his dress pants had paint splatters, and his home-cut hair made me smile.
Few who saw us knew or cared that most of our days are spent in coveralls, bandannas, and gumboots. Unless they looked closely at our hands or the lines on my face, they wouldn’t have a clue. Few knew that the last two weeks had been filled with more prayers than sleep. Few understood why that two year old by our side didn’t understand the importance of asphalt sidewalks or the shoes on his feet. Few wondered why my face looked older or why i kept a hand on my unborn baby like a bear cradling her cub.
I’m realizing that few know us. I’m beginning to recognize that I know but a few. However, whatever knowledge or background or sense of understanding we have of one’s story, we can believe in their good and hope for their joy. We don’t need to know the details; the map leading to that new line on her face or the loss of light in his eyes. We can see a face and read that brief glimpse of story, snap a picture and give a breath, connect in a gaze and realize and recognize and believe.
Maybe that’s how we can learn to love.

3 Responses to “More than you know”
  1. sadie says:

    oh my, I loved this post.

  2. aunty olive says:

    So beautifully written Deanna – I love you so much!

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