MORE LOVE AGAIN!

Dave and I with the granddaughters that graduated yesterday. 

[Sorry this is so long, but the event is important for me and many.  Thanks for putting up with me.  OH, and the color I'm using on the letters is b/c it's his favorite color.  I'm not using purple, so you'll know him.   I'm smiling when writing this piece.]
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     Re: the photo above, this is the info.  Sunday, late afternoon and evening, we were together with them and my others.  Some of you wouldn't have seen Dave and I together on a photo very recently, so I put it on here so you'd see.  AND the reason is because tomorrow, Tuesday, May 19th, my husband and I will be celebrating our 30th Dating Anniversary.  It was a miracle then, and, day-by-day, it's a miracle now.

      I had begun attending his church on the first Lenten service toward the end of February, 1985.  I had been asked to come there and do the writing, arrange for the music, have monologue people from other churches and there and, at the end of my "job", I was acting the final week event when I had written and was being Mary Magdalene.  Suddenly, when just dropping into this church, the Lord said to me, "You are home." 
      Dave was an Air Force officer, a pianist, organist, and a youth leader. And a young guy.  I respected him, because my daughter was in his youth group and he was so considerate and giving.  I was a bit on the tough side, especially as a divorced mom, hardly making it financially and emotionally.  I was very intense in terms of hoping to help other Christian divorced moms and dads who were walking through very difficult stretches, especially with churches that wouldn't accept them.
      WELL, one of his youth co-workers told Dave that he needed to mow my grass.  Made no sense; I hadn't asked for any help. I didn't do much ever, because I had hundreds of snakes in the yard and I was horrified.  But, for some reason Dave felt he was supposed to do it.  Someone locally in our house areas had managed to kill the snakes a few days earlier.
      Dave came on May 18th with the lawnmower.  It didn't work, which he hadn't anticipated, and he tried to fix it.  We talked in my garage while he was working on it.  It still wasn't fixed, so we did necessary errands connected to the youth.  Went riding on his motorcycle later that night.  Had fun.
      The next day he had piles of work at church, because he and the kids were preparing to head for Mexico as a missions team.  After church, he came to my house and worked on my yard, finished the mowing.  I, not knowing he was a marvelous cook and I was "OK", gave him a "thank you" dinner.
      Then he played a junky piano I had grabbed for my daughter when a neighbor was sending it to the dumps. Of course, it was wonderful to listen to him.

      For some reason, neither of us ever understood, so far outside of his character, he gave me a gentle, sweet kiss on my cheek as he was leaving.
      We talked the next day, Monday, and he came back to my house that evening and we hashed it more, and realized God was putting us together.  However, both of us were scared beyond belief -- so different.

My son and daughter were with us then.

We were engaged in 10 days, married in 4 months.  Shocked a lot of people!  But we knew it was what we were called to do.  It was WAY outside of the normal social aspects, Christian and otherwise. He was 25, I was 40 when we married. 
      So, MORE was the love through him that was poured into my heart, bringing healing from the Lord by his kindness, graciousness, givingness, huge generosity,  respect, appreciation ... most aspects I had never experienced in my life, even as a Christian.
      We had been together for 2 days when he dropped an envelope off to me while heading out for a meeting; would see me the next day.  When I opened the envelope, it blew my mind.

      This may seem too "romantic" and not serious enough re: "More" ... but, however, tomorrow we'll have lunch at a Greek restaurant we've enjoyed for many years and my daughter gave us the special money for it on my Mother's Day.  He's working at our church and teaching piano students that evening so we can't run out and do much, but we can pray, smile, hug and kiss. That's what counts.  He's been wonderful.
      And, yes, we were much different and, yes, he knew it from the beginning or he wouldn't have written this poem 30 years ago.  I still keep it in a frame on my dresser.  It will never go away.  This is it:

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How can such a tough lady be so fragile?

        Yet you are and i understand.
Fragileness is a part of your beauty, like a flower,

and your willingness to risk hurt shows your strength, 

which balances and makes you whole.

I pray that i see your fragility, 
       so i can treat you as i ought.
I would loathe to crush the flower underfoot, 
      when i desire to nurture you and grow you up in Jesus.

I pray the Lord's forgiveness,
     and yours,
if i am not tender when i need to be, 
      and tough when i need to be.

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      Very little had ever touched my heart more than that.  Accurate, filled with truth, pouring forth more and more love.  He's been a treat to me.  He was a gift from God.  My kids and grandkids, my sisters and other family members and friends had loved him ... almost more than they have loved me.  DUH!!  Because he's such a special person.  And he's a house fixer, yard fixer, WONDERFUL cooker, and wonderful pianist for churches and for weddings and funerals.  When we were in Uganda, a huge blessing for us together, he did all that same stuff there, too.  Teaching school books, computers, pianos, and fixing and fixing.  They love him, too.  As I've said, he's a huge blessing.
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I'll be 70 in July and my dementia and, possibly the beginning of Alzheimer's according to what I've been told, and my stumbliness and dizziness, etc., he's still very helpful and very kind and very loving.