Things I Love Part Three: My Husband

This is part three in my week long series seeking to honor the things I esteem.

Last Friday I had the privilege of hearing a woman of God speak to a group of us women.  In that talk she made a great point of how excellent her husband is and I was struck that too often when we get together as women we tend to idolize our children and mock our husbands.  This should not be the case, and I was convicted that I do not honor my husband here on the blog nearly enough.

Here is my struggle: how do I publicly acknowledge and esteem a man who hates to be the center of attention?

I think I can say this: the first time I met Jonathan Cowan, I was running, tears in my eyes, away from a silly boy I thought I loved who had broken my heart. I literally ran into Jonathan’s arms, and I’ve been running into his arms ever since.  We’ve had our moments. I mean, put two sinful people in a marriage and there’s bound to be conflict.  When both of those people have artistic temperaments it takes things up a notch.  While we may have fought over how to cut a round cake (yes really), or the state of the house, or other trivial matters, when the storms came we’ve clung to each other, and he’s led me in clinging to the Lord.

In all the years of infertility and every month that we felt that loss of omission, he still loved me.  He never once told me that I was broken.  He never reminded me that if he had married someone else he could have had a full quiver before then.  He opened his arms, and let me run into them.

I will never forget, even when I am old and gray and can’t remember how to cook soup, I will never forget lying on my bed in our little apartment in Georgia sobbing over the loss of our first child after so many years of prayer.  Jonathan curled up behind me, and held me and read me Job 1, which ends:

And he said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” In all this Job did not sin or charge God with wrong.

Then he went into our spare room/study/art room for several hours, and wrestled with God, and came out with this:

I still get choked up when I look at it.

There is so much I could write about my Jonathan, but anything more would make him uncomfortable.  If I said he was a great man of God, he would say he was a horrible sinner, who faces his sin every day.  If I said he was a caring and loving father, he would say he was too often impatient, or selfish.  So I won’t say those things (*wink*) I’ll just say that I love him more every day, and the longer we’re married, the more I see the gospel at work transforming him.  I need to say it more often.

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About Coralie

After 11 years of infertility, I am now a mother to three, a wife of a Presbyterian (ARP) preacher and a struggling homemaker. Welcome to my little corner of the net. Kick off your shoes, put your feet up and join the conversation. View all posts by Coralie

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