He is not perfect, but he is mine.
I am stuck with him, he informs me regularly. His loyalty is singular.
He makes other men look like boys.
He befriends the underdog, and accepts people for who they are.
His anger comes slowly, but when it does, it is justified. He doesn’t lose his temper. He doesn’t tolerate dishonorable behavior in others, but speaks up and says what is right. No matter the consequences.
He is not a man of many friends, but the few he has, he loves deeply. So deeply, that he will voice his concerns to them, even if he knows he might be risking the friendship.
He is honest and blunt. Too blunt, sometimes, but that is far better than softening the Truth, so it has no effect whatsoever on its hearer.
He is the same man at home that he is at work, at church, and at Wal-Mart. What you see when you are with him is what I see when I am with him. This is called integrity.
He knows the meaning of intimacy, and strives for it in our marriage. After eleven years, we’re still not all that great at it sometimes, but we are growing together.
He winces at compliments given to him face-to-face, but likes to hear through the grapevine that others think well of him and respect him.
He is my best friend.
I am so, so grateful I chose to say “yes” when he asked me to marry him. If I could go back in time, I would do it again. And again. And again. I chose wisely when I chose to marry Levi.
For my husband, I am eternally grateful.
Grace & Peace,