Because I Love Him

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I know I’m a little late, but ever since I heard about Jennie‘s loss of her dear husband I’ve been in a constant state of sadness. I cannot imagine the pain that she and her sweet girls are going through, but I do know that the root of all that emotion is because of a deep, abiding, incredible love that she had for her husband Mikey. I know this same love for my own husband.

About 2 weeks ago she asked everyone in the blogging world and the world-world to make a peanut butter pie and share it with someone they love. I didn’t make the pie – the man I love adores chocolate chip cookies. So I made him his favorite cookies to for us to share and made the pie for some of my closest girlfriends who were able to take some home to share with their husbands. Because every little bit of love counts, even when it comes in the form of decadent pie.

Nate, I love you. I love you more than I could ever really put into words. I love how you get me, how you hold me, how you comfort me. I love how you encourage me to become a better person. I love how you push me toward a stronger and deeper relationship with God. I love the way you kiss me. I love the way you make me laugh harder and longer than anyone else on the planet. I love how we spend almost every waking moment together and it still never feels like enough. I love cooking with you even though I know I’m a kitchen hog. I love how you dote on me, compliment me, and build me up. I love how you lovingly rebuke me, even though in the moment it may not seem like it. I love how I never thought I wanted kids until we met and got married. I love the thought of raising a family with you. I love the thought of growing old with you. I love traveling with you. I love how detailed you are. I love how much you love airplanes and photography and video. I love how you play the guitar when you are angry or happy – and I love that I can tell the difference in the way that you play. I love that you’re so crazy athletic and I love pretending like I am more athletic than you; I know I’m not. I love the way you date me. I love the way you love your family and friends. I love the way you roughhouse with Bunker and cuddle Keira like her precious little feet should never touch the ground.

I love the man that you were, the man that you are, and the man that you are growing into.

I love the way you make me do this: