a tribute to my husband

I was uploading and sorting photos yesterday and getting a bit of a reality check about how far behind in this process I've allowed myself to get and-- worse yet-- how many photos I haven't taken this calendar year. *cringe* I am not a keeper and I am not one given to tremendous amounts of sentimentality, but when it comes to photos, they're one of the few material things I really do treasure. The memories and history they represent are pretty much priceless to me.

But in sorting the photos I do have, I couldn't help but realize how many are of Daniel working on projects for me, holding a baby or a toddler, playing ball with one of the boys, reading a book to the girls, putting something together for one of the kids.

He's a really good man.




I know I've got a major bias (!), but I also know that I see him at his best, his worst, his rawest, his most vulnerable.

And that is perhaps why one of the most remarkable things to me about him is how authentic he is.

He is the same here, there, everywhere, with everyone, at all times. And I mean that.

He loves God. He loves people. He is hopeful and faith-filled. He is pleasant and easy-going. He is slow to criticize and quick to help (a trait I have come to value all the more as I see many in my generation seemingly opt for sitting on the sidelines to critique instead of jumping in to serve). He has lots of ideas but isn't attached to any of them more than he is attached to whatever will build the Kingdom of God. He works hard. He will try anything.

He doesn't speak harsh words and he is deeply kind. He will be the first to apologize and he will always stand by what he knows is true. He is long-suffering. He doesn't need fanfare or human recognition of himself or anything he's doing to determine whether or not it is of value; God is absolutely his one and only Judge. He is a peace maker. He will have the hard conversations when needed. He keeps the standard and he gives second chances. He loves the Church global and he loves the church local.

He's a good dad. A fun dad. An invested dad. I've seen him play ball with the boys, which of course he loves, and then the next minute ooh and ahh with Aubrey as she shows him all the things in the American Girl catalog that she thinks are wonderful, even though most of it means nothing to him! He'll spend an hour putting a rocket together just to see the look on the kids' faces as it takes off. He's the one who removes splinters, fixes toys and jewelry, and tells them to shake off the latest spill. He is a just authority and he is a sympathetic leader.

He is unendingly good to me. I've told him before and I'll tell him again: I've seen Jesus more clearly because of the way he loves me. He is sacrificial and he is merciful. He builds and restores me continually with the Word of God. He shows me in everyday life just how deep and long patience can run. He helps me laugh and he reminds me to have fun. He serves me relentlessly and protects me fiercely.

Perhaps tributes like this are usually reserved for momentous occasions or significant milestones, but today, as my heart overflows and my words are ready, I wanted to put down for me to see in years to come, for my children to read when they are older, for others to hear: when a human vessel yields himself to the Holy Spirit, deep and remarkable things come out of his life. Things that perhaps the world will not take note of or comment on or regard, but things that the ones closest and dearest to can't help but be touched by; things that leave the mark of eternity on our hearts.