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)
