Helper

Genesis 2:18 says "The LORD God said, 'It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.'"

Helper doesn't even begin to describe what my husband is to me. Now, I know that the Bible says that the woman (Eve) was created to be a helper to Adam (her husband), but I would say that it goes both ways. Husbands are helpers, too! (Hey, that's a good t-shirt slogan!)

My husband, Stan, is my helper. He's the greatest. He's my friend, my confidant, my co-conspirator, my aide. He is truly "my better half."

Stan rubs my neck when it's sore (like it is right now). He rubs healing anti-itch cream on my razor burned legs so I don't scratch myself to death (like he did last night.) He uses the pumice stone on my heels when they get dry and cracked and need to be softened. He gently rubs my feet with soothing lotion when he finishes pumicing them. And after all that, if he feels the slightest bit "romantic" and I rebuff his advances, he doesn't pout. He understands.

Stan works hard all day long so I can enjoy the luxury of staying home with our children. Then, even though I know he's as tired as I am, my partner pitches in and does the dishes, bathes the kids, reads to them and puts them to bed so I can enjoy a long soak in my tub.

Stan never complains when we have Hamburger Helper for dinner, even though I know he'd love something tastier. He tells me I'm a great cook even though I'm capable of creating something nasty like low fat, sugar free chocolate sponge cake. He's not disappointed when he comes home and there's no lingering smell of something simmering on the stove. He either offers to take us all out to dinner or he digs around in the freezer and pantry for something to feed his family.

Stan doesn't utter a word when there are baskets stacked up in our bedroom, full of clean laundry to be folded (like there are right now). He doesn't disparage me when it's clear I've done "nothing" all day. He gets that some days a girl just hasta' stay in her PJs and watch game shows if she's going to stay sane.

Stan tells me I'm beautiful even when I know I don't look all that hot, because my sweet husband sees my inner beauty. He sees past my selfishness and my pride and my narrowmindedness and my gluttony and past everything I count as a personal fault. He loves me unconditionally. He shows me a great deal of mercy when I do not deserve mercy. I learn from every him day.

My sweet hubby spoils me and loves me and pampers me and exhorts me and praises me and I love him dearly.

This blog's for you, honey. Mwah!