Eight Days of Thankfulness in One

I’m jumping on the “month of thankfulness” bandwagon and going to try to post what I’m thankful for every day in the month of November.

Well, maybe not every day. Because that’s a lot.

But I’m going to make a valiant effort.

So days 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8 of thankfulness…I’m thankful for my husband.

And yes, he deserves an entire week’s worth of thank-you’s, maybe more.

I don’t talk about it much on here…mostly because I try not to think about it too much…but Dave’s work schedule can be a little difficult at times.

It changes. Like, a lot. Sometimes weekly.

This is the honest to goodness truth, there have been times where I’ve had to ask him…what time are you working again tomorrow? And honest to goodness sometimes he has to double-check with a co-worker because they can barely keep track of it themselves.

Lately it’s been better, not ideal, but a little more regular…but last week…

You guys.

It was like the week that never ended. For real. He worked Monday through Saturday, two of those days were late nights and one of those late nights was a Friday. He got home at 9:30 Friday evening and got back up to work all day on Saturday.

It was hard on him. It was hard on us.

And if I’m being completely honest…I did not have a good attitude about it. I did lots of sighing and moaning and complaining and feeling sorry for myself.

Somewhere in the midst of my little pity party, I pictured myself the way I must look to God – like a spoiled little girl surrounded by all the wonderful presents my parents had given me, pouting because there was this one thing I didn’t have. So I resolved that day to stop making my mental lists of things that weren’t going my way and start giving gratitude for what I did have.

And at the top of that list is my husband. How good of God to give me a lifelong companion, a “sit together” buddy, an adult to talk to after long days with toddlers, someone to help me with baths and dirty diapers.

I am not a single mom, my husband doesn’t travel extensively, he may get home at different times every night but he does come home. He is not a military man, gone for months at a time and often in harms way. His job may have difficult hours, but he has a job. One that allows me to stay at home and do the job God has called me to as a mother.

So, thank you, Lord for my husband.