I am sometimes prone to these dramatic emotional whirlwinds that swoop in and bowl me over. They are equal parts hated and revered because they make me miserable but they also make me grateful and appreciative...
Someday one of us will die.
Maybe later today, hopefully in 50 years.
And then the other will still be here. I'll clasp my hands together a lot, wishing I could hold his hand and talk to him. Or he'll spend his sad, lonely nights sleeping on the couch so he doesn't have to see my side of the bed empty.
I am wrecked.
What I want is for Jesus to come get us all at the same time. If I can't have that, I'd like to fall asleep snuggled up to my husband when we're old and gray, and then neither of us wakes up.
But I haven't been promised either of those things. We weren't given expiration date stamps.
So today, and every day I can manage to remember this feeling, my job is to love this man so well. My job is to love him like this might be the last day we get to love each other... Because it very well could be.
The end of this song says it all.