While he (Josh, that is) dozed with his head in my lap, I saw something new in his black hair. Grays. I began to count them, and as I did, I could recount our history. Every gray stood for a moment of our lives. There were 3 close together…one for each of our growing kiddos. One close to these but not right next to them…this one must be Emma’s. One for me. One for the grief of past financial struggles. One for the seasonal heartaches of the ministry. These grays tell the story of our life together.
And then it hit me. I am not going to grow old with this man. I already am growing old with this man. We’re a couple of months away from a decade of marriage. History gets made in a decade. Years go by in a decade. I’m not a child anymore…and neither is he. We’re adults now. And more history will be made. And more years will go by. And more grays will come.
And I’m glad. “…This is my beloved and this is my friend….” (Song of Solomon 5:16)