It was dark and quiet. The kids were already tucked in, their steady quiet breaths bringing this Mamma deep joy and peace. I had just stepped out to the shower, to find him sitting in the dark by the fire. It was all aglow, new logs stacked high, promising warmth while we sleep. There was not other light, just the glow of the burning timber.
I curl on the floor next to him watching the flames. We chat quietly about the day. Deep things and hard things, easy things and fun things. We share our struggles while laughing at yet another crazy thing one of the kids came up with. He shares his deep heart about people who are hurting and broken and needing to know the Saviour. I love him more with every word.
Then, right there, in the glow and quiet, he takes my hand and we pray. Long and slow, pouring our hearts out to our Father. Thanks and gratitude laid at the Saviours feet right along side many requests of guidance, patience, strength and clarity.
And in that moment I cannot love this man any more. Because loving a man who loves others is easy, because trusting a man who loves Jesus comes effortlessly and because when a man prays for you, it is impossible to not love him.
