Maybe this is love. . .

Maybe romance isn't about love at first sight or those sweet nothings in your ear- like you see in the films. But maybe it is that faithful love that keeps your husband coming home day after day, and loving you no matter how you look, act or feel.

Maybe it's not about being the best at everything (ideal Mom, superwoman) But maybe its letting the love you have and the simpleness of each moment shine forth and make you be the best you were meant to be at that moment.

Maybe love isn't butterflies in your stomach and candlelit dinners like it used to be. But maybe love is when your husband keeps working a job he struggles with,  providing his family's daily needs.

Maybe love isn't like the books or the movies or the dreams you'd imagined of what it would be. But maybe love is when you are tired and needing a quiet moment and your husband is willing to give the kids their baths and put them to bed so you can just clean up the kitchen in peace :)

Maybe love isn't all our culture cracks it up to be but rather boils down to those little things our men do every day. Not those things they do in the movies- like rescuing the fair maidens, or saving lives, or spewing out poetic language. But maybe love is . . . .

-when he changes the diaper of the 2 year old who comes to the table stinky so you can stay in your seat.
-reading his Bible alone, so he grows in God's wisdom.
-bedtime stories to your kids- making him such an ideal Daddy.
-pancakes he makes on Saturday morning.
-long chats at the table when the kids have been excused.
-supporting your hobbies, even when they are messy and seeing your talent (even if your art keeps you from having a perfectly clean house).
-filling up your car with gas.
-hugs and unromantic pecks on the cheek :)
-being an unchanging rock of support and advice.
-helping us say "no"when we have said "yes"too many times.
-listening to our rantings, and not offering solutions.
-just being

Maybe love is so much more than the fairytale romance women dream up and the romance they long for their husband to envelope them with.

Maybe love is just these simple little things all stemming from that deep, rich love that grows over time. It's like deep pools that only the light reveals as these daily rays shine forth to show what lies beneath.

Maybe love is just this, this day in and day out. Living our boring lives in their monotonous humdrum and learning to be kinder, gentler, and stronger as we are immersed and hammered and drowned with real, hard, strong LOVE.

Our Love Story

In October of 2004, I was in need of a refuge, a place to recover from a broken heart and a place to forget old haunts of romance. 

I came to Latvia for one month to see old friends (another story) and teach English to the youth in one church. 

During that month the youth leader drove me home some evenings and we chatted in our broken English and Latvian. 

I went home and he stayed in my memory- he had struck me as handsome. 

A year later (in August) I returned to Latvia to continue teaching English to the youth and adults of Ogre.

That same youth leader signed up for private English lessons. He contined to drive me home some evenings and invite me to do things with the youth. 

In October he invited me to go on a walk. It was a cold, wet day. We walked for about 4 hours- all over Ogre. Towards the end of our walk when we were in the only park in Ogre he told me he wanted to date me with the goal that someday we would be a family. 

I know some girls may have been scared away by his frankness. But I had liked him for some time. We were not young and reckless. I was 24 and he was 31. We prayed about this together. I told him he had to ask my Dad. (Weird Americans, right?)

Of course my Dad agreed. Though my Mom was NOT happy. I had promised not to fall in love during that year in Latvia. Now that was stupid wasn't it?! 

Many walks and talks later in June or July- I don't remember which now, we were back in that same park. It was a lovely evening- we were sitting by the pond. I knew the path over to the island because the gardener had told me once where the water was shallower. I told Janis and he carried me over to the island. 

My back was turned to him and when I turned around he was giving me a water lily with a ring on the stem. Of course I wanted to say "yes" but I didn't. I wore his ring while I "thought about it". 

I was in confusion. Mom said, "No way." Dad said, "Ok."What did my heart say? 

I have always been compliant. 

About a week later we were together and he was expecting my answer. 

I told him, "I can't marry you now. Maybe later."

He started to leave, walking away from me with bent shoulders. I couldn't bear it! It was then I knew my heart! 

"Come back, come back" I called after him. 

"That was not my answer" I told him. "I want to marry you."

And so we were engaged. 

Old Flames

There is something about old flames that seems to make it impossible to completely rid them from ones heart. 

You think they are gone for good. You don't even want them back. But a dream, or a word or a post and somehow that sparks a little flame. 

Not the flame of desire- but that of pain or remembrance and memories.

You think you have forgiven them. You think you have moved on. You have your life, your kids, your love. 

But something about the pain of rejection or betrayal never seems to completely die. 

You think you have left the past in the dust, completely covered in floods of unseen tears. And yet there is a place in your dark heart that wants that fool to know how he broke your heart. 

You don't want pain for another, and yet there is a longing that one who claimed so great a love and fled would come and ask pardon for what he did. 

Yes, its all been said, all the talks and notes and nights cried through. 

But does that jerk know he broke my heart? Does he know the nights I cried? Did he even care back then? An apology would sure be nice! 

Now the flickering can subside, now my piece is said again. Laid to rest neath the space of time.