Even though it’s late, Friday’s not over quite yet… so it’s still “Five Minute Friday” with Lisa-Jo Baker!!
And, tonight, the word is TRUTH. And the truth is, truth matters.
The truth is, we all want to be loved, to feel wanted, to be cared for, needed, supported. To be somebody. To be known.
Sometimes, I feel invisible. Unnoticed. Unneeded. Like an extra accessory that no one would miss and that doesn’t matter.
The truth is, I’ve kinda had that kinda week. The kinda day where you’re left saying, “But, wait a minute! What about me? I was there too.”
And then I’m reminded… in little ways, in lovely ways, that I do matter, that I am important, and that there are people who know me and love me. My sister laughs with me, commiserates with me, and understands me. My momma gives a word of encouragement just when I need it and then steps in to help just when I need her. The truth is, they get me. They know me.
And then there’s him. Especially him.
He gets me too. All of me.
He makes me feel beautiful and needed and wanted. Loved. In forever ways.
He knows my truth.
My worries. My dreams. My ambitions. My secrets. My fears. My failures. My triumphs.
He cares about it all. And he loves me. Fiercely. Strongly. Tenderly. Passionately. Steadily.
Even with a tough love when I need it. Like when he makes a dentist appointment for me and takes me to the appointment when I’m scared to death to go. But he holds my hand the whole way. And wears a superhero t-shirt under his shirt on the day of the procedure because he knows. He’s my hero.
He’s there with me and for me and by me.
Teammates. Soulmates. Partners. Best friends. Lovers.
I could write a million and one meaningless words, and he would read every word like it was Pulitzer Prize worthy. Because he’s my greatest fan. He’s my cheerleader. I could cry a thousand tears. I could rant and rave and scream and stomp. And he would still be here. Because he’s staying. He’s not going anywhere. I could plan and scheme a hundred crazy different overdone ideas, and he would be right here, supporting me and helping make every single one of my dreams come true.
I am secure in him. I am loved by him. He touches me, and I know I am wanted.
Like a hot fire on a cold night. Like an umbrella in a storm. Like the string on a wind-tossed kite. He’s my lighthouse. He’s my anchor. He’s my safe place to land.
I matter to him. To other people I may be little, but to him I am big.
He listens, really listens. And he hears me. He asks for my input and thinks I’m smart and even a little witty. He even likes my crazy. Driving down the road, he reaches over and puts his hand on my leg because I am there. With him. And he turns the radio to my favorite song, and together we sing. At the end of a long day, he wraps his arms around me. I’m important to him. And he needs me.
A surprise of not one basket of mums for our front porch, but three, because he knows I like things in sets of three. Fuzzy socks for my cold feet. A full tank of gas in my van. He builds me shelves and tables and mantels. Cooks yummy things for me to eat. Brings me coffee in the morning. Paints my toenails. Holds my hair when I’m sick. Watches “Grey’s Anatomy” with me and pretends to be interested. Helps me search through used bookstores for hours for an obscure book. Plants tropical flowers that will die over the winter and that he’ll have to replant next spring just because the flowers remind me of Florida. Little things. Big things. Special things. Secret things. I am loved, and I am loved well.
The truth is, because he loves me, because he gets me, because he needs me, I can stand a little taller, a little braver, a little prouder. It’s okay if I’m invisible to some people. I am seen by him.
And I am never unnoticed by him. Across a room, our eyes meet, and I see the recognition reflected back in his. He knows me.
The truth is, to him, I am some one. I am known. And I am his. Forever.
Shared tears. Shared laughter. Shared trust. Shared forever.
Our shared truth.