Handsome Lives at My House Tuesday, March 4th, 2014
It is not even daylight. The alarm goes off, and I nudge my husband to quickly dismiss it before it wakes our sleeping toddlers. I have been up at least three times in the night with two sick little ones. As I roll over and snuggle back under warm covers, he sits up and throws his legs over the side of our bed. His day has begun.
It will be completely different than my own. His day will be full of co-workers and bosses. It will be full of listening to and following orders. He will advise, supervise, and meet deadlines. He will spend every hour of his day on someone else’s clock. He will give every ounce of himself physically to provide for our family. He will do it today and tomorrow and until in old age, his body protests.
When he is done working, he will put in hours as a servant of the community. He will train to become a better fireman, and he will spend hours listening to complaints and discussing business as a city councilman. The free moments of his day will slip away until there are only a few precious ones left.
But he wont use them for himself. He wont meet up with friends or have a beer with a buddy. He will come home. He will give the last of himself to his wife and his children until the exhaustion of the day takes over and gravity wins the fight against his eyelids.
After the kids are tucked tightly into bed, I will find him in a chair or the couch or our bed with the remote slipping from his hand, and rest finally washing over his weary soul…. until the alarm goes off tomorrow.
My husband is a hunk.
It’s not because he’s on the cover of a magazine. He likely won’t be listed in GQ’s most attractive men for the year – (but y’all, he should.)
The truth is…
Chiseled abs or the “right” amount of facial hair don’t define handsome. I could care less about his haircut or the cut of the suit. His arm size, waist size or boot size don’t add up to handsome. Yes, his eyes and his smile might have won my curiosity, but they didn’t win my heart.
Handsome – well, real-life handsome lives at my house.
Real handsome looks like arms that hold a tired wife and happy children.
Real handsome looks like endless sacrifice because he wants to provide for us.
Real handsome isn’t cocky, but quiets fears with calm confidence.
Real handsome has plenty of time for wrestling super-heroes and brushing princess hair.
He doesn’t have to be asked to help. He doesn’t have to put-down to feel big. He doesn’t take for granted the hearts that he holds in his hands.
Real handsome looks like coming home – boots by the front door, a briefcase on the kitchen counter, a suit coat replaced by a t shirt.
When Hollywood or some confused author try to tell me that handsome has something to do with how controlling or persuasive a man can be… when Magic Mikes and Christian Greys are presented as acceptable examples of attractive men…I won’t forget real handsome.
I will remember 6:00 am and the alarm going off. I will remember this important truth that real-life handsome is measured by wiped tears, calmed fears and sacrificed years. It searches the Word and holds tightly to the Lord.
It is crowned by dedication. It is adorned with dignity. It is humble. It is trustworthy. It is safe.
Real handsome lives at my house… and I bet… handsome lives at your house too.
To my sweet husband, thank you for being you… Every single day.