Why I Love My Husband

God custom-made Benjamin William Harris, Jr. just for me. Not because I'm so deserving, but because God knows what He's doing all the time. If I, in all my wisdom, had sat down to design the perfect husband for myself, I'd never have done as good a job as God did--obviously--but Benjamin is what I would have been aiming for.

Benjamin is my pastor, my lover, protector, provider, and a daunting inspiration. Not that he's perfect, but he's the perfect man for me.

My stomach flutters when Benjamin touches me, and I still get a tingle in my backbone when he walks into a room where I've been waiting. He's the only person with whom I've ever felt free enough to reveal myself completely: no secrets and no excuses.

This is a husband who allows me to be angry when I am, yet he can get to me to laugh even when I don't necessarily want to. And when he's mad at me, he doesn't spoil me by crumbling at the sight of my tears. (Which is a good thing for him, since tears come with nearly every emotion for me.)

He calls me "Baby, Baby" and compliments me both privately and in public all the time. But he's a great coach too, never failing to give me a push when a push will do me more good than sweet talk.

Benjamin's sacrificial living, his fierce love of family and complete availability to anyone who needs a friend, a counselor, a taste of truth, or just a handshake when the world is passing them by, makes me proud to be his wife and hopeful that with his example I will grow to be a better representative of both my husband and of Christ.

I have a good man, God put us together, and I'm grateful. Did I mention that we got married five years ago today?

Happy Anniversary, Baby.