New Sheets & Marriage

A little while back I unintentionally bought some very high-quality sheets on-line. We needed new sheets. I loved the pattern and I really loved the price and so without a concern for thread count, I ordered them.  Everybody knows that thread count is what really counts in serious sheet shopping (say that three times real fast!). The purchase was on impulse but as is my heritage also on sale! I guess I got lucky this time, because these sheets, with their crazy turquoise design are so soft and dreamy, and when you fling them out to make the bed the thread count is so high that air gets caught underneath and they gently float down to mattress. I had no idea they were going to be so wonderful and every time I make the bed it brings a smile to this frugal girl’s face.

Because I am not as young as I once was and because I am trying to drink more water and live healthier my bladder can no longer wait the extra 40 minutes for the alarm clock. Every morning, I am fleetingly annoyed by this interruption of my sleep. At approximately 4:25 AM, I roll out, joints popping and go take care of business. I don’t know if it’s the sound of my creaking body, the grumbling, or my sudden absence; but Derek is usually awake when I return. Then as I climb back in bed, lifting my long and unruly hair off of my neck, he lifts the covers with his left arm and stretches out the right so that I can nestle down alongside him. We snuggle, discuss the coming day, sometimes pray, sometimes lightly sleep. It’s a great way to start the day.

We will be celebrating our first anniversary at the end of the month. It is clear to me that, like those sheets, I had no idea what a great deal I was getting. I knew I loved him. I knew I liked his looks [grin]. I suppose, instinctively I knew I needed him. Still, I had no idea how quickly or how much I would come to rely on, care for, care about, honor, and respect this man. I am constantly amazed how we just fell into step together. I do the dishes. He takes out the trash. We both cook. We didn’t have a family meeting or make a chore chart. We just did it. When we pack to go to the lake, he backs the car around, I start bringing out lawn chairs and packing the cooler which he loads while I check the flashlight and gather the bedding. It is so comfortable and efficient and right.

I am sometimes amazed, but he feels the same way about me, and the best part is that he makes sure I know it. He tells me I’m beautiful and he looks at me the way you look at something you adore. He tells me he loves my mind, and he shows it with intelligent conversations and shared wit. He respects me and he demands that those around me are also respectful. He is both my prayer partner and prayer warrior. There are no walls between us, and when we start to notice the mortar being mixed to begin building one we halt construction with honesty and sharing and sometimes tears. We are imperfect and blind to the imperfections. We are dorks and we crack us up.

This morning, when he pulled back the covers for me to settle in next to him, and as the sheet floated gently around me, I felt the smoothness of his body next to mine. I inhaled the scent of him and admired his muscular chest. I was hypnotized by the rhythm of his breathing and his lightly stroking my hair. I was flooded with gratitude. I appreciate the prize because I have trained hard for the race. This time of year, ironically near Independence Day, has become a time of reflection and personal review. Honestly, I am not always confident in the direction and my decisions. However, this morning, in the embrace of my husband and high thread count sheets I was assured that I am blessed and highly favored by the One who is the greatest designer. So very, very blessed, indeed.