With Valentines day fast approaching, I’m reminded of a man who became so exasperated with his wife that he exclaimed, “How can you be so beautiful and yet so stupid?!” “Dearest love,” she replied, “God made me beautiful so you’d marry me, and he made me stupid so I’d marry you.”

Which explains my life exactly. It all makes sense now. But why do I love Shauna? How could I not love her? How could anyone not love her, adore her, appreciate her, admire her?

I love the fact that she was silly enough to marry me and promise to stick with me no matter what life dished out.

I love her laugh. It’s deep, full, real, and contagious.

I love what she calls her “Need to feed.” She’s an amazing cook and baker.

I love her gift of hospitality. When she’s busy helping people belong (which is most of the time), it touches my heart.

I love her “mama bear” heart for our kids. Pity the poor fool who doesn’t factor that into their calculations.

I love her courage, the way she can speak into my life with such clarity and passion.

I love her loyalty. She’s the kind of friend that most people dream of having.

I love Mondays, cause on Monday mornings, I get her all to myself.

I love holding her hand, kissing her cheek, massaging her neck, losing myself in her eyes. When she touches me, even for just a moment, my soul lights up. I’m not kidding.

I don’t love her because she’s beautiful (that would be shallow of me). But she truly is breathtaking.

I love her bed head. She rocks it better ‘n Gene Simmons with a serious hangover.

I love how she supports me, believes in me, prays for me, protects and upholds me. I love her grace, her forgiveness, her patience.

I love how Jesus lays stuff on her heart, and how she goes with it.

I love her.

And I love Jesus all the more for letting me spend my life with her. There is no one else in the world I’d rather have at my side, and it’s a privilege to stand at hers. She’s ‘da bomb.

And I’m very sorry, reader, for posting this… because now I’ve made you jealous. But she’s mine.

All mine.