A grateful prayer.


It is late. I write this on the floor of my bedroom, next to the bed where the love of my life is softly snoring. There was a time in my life that such a phrase (“love of my life”) seemed so trite. But I use it now because it seems the most true thing I can say about it. No matter what happens in a year or 20 or 60 from now, he will have been the great love of my life.

I write this, because it is something I say almost every night as we’re both drifting off to sleep. My arm around him, tucked into his chest, I say this quiet prayer, because it is what fills my heart. And perhaps it’s the sleep-aid lowering my inhibitions, but it felt right to share my little prayer with you, finally. And here it is.

  • I am so grateful for this man.
  • For this beautiful, wonderful man.
  • For this kind, compassionate, patient man.
  • For this man who loves me so tenderly in my own language, that of affection and touch.
  • For this man who wraps me in love every day, even if our days are brief.
  • For this man who treats me as his partner in every aspect of this lovely complicated life we’ve built. Who puts my intelligence and opinion on the same pedestal as his own.
  • For this man who so willingly sacrifices his own desires for my happiness.
  • For this man who smiles simply at seeing me smile. For this man whose happiness is my own.
  • For this man who truly sees my strength and my ability to survive – the foundations of who I am -, and yet is not content to allow me to simply endure. For this man takes my burdens as his own, so that I may know peace.
  • For this man who truly cherishes me, who watches me putter about the house in my sloppy clothes and my hair a mess and yet looks at me as though I am the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Who knows every little nuance of me, down to the way I shuffle when I am happy.
  • For this man who is strong without aggression, and proud without boasting.
  • For this man who is calm yet fierce.
  • For this man, in whose eyes I see the world – the pain of each transgression he’s endured yet also the spirit of tenacity that drives him forward. In those eyes I see love and hope and the promise of a life that is already rich in its own way yet will only get better with time.
  • For this man who has known love and loss, and who knows the ways of making it on one’s own. For in this, we are kindred… together in our brokenness.
  • For this man who is gentle with my broken parts, yet does not treat me as an item to be fixed.
  • For this man, for whom there have already been a few before me. For the lessons he’s learned from them, and for the ways he strives now to not repeat his mistakes.
  • For this man who strives every day to be the best he can be, for me, for his son, for himself.
  • For this man who regards me as perfect, yet inspires me to be my best.
  • For this man who makes me feel. Love, lust, tenderness, passion… at once both at home and alive.
  • In all things, I love this man. In his best moments and in his worst, I love this man.
  • And I’m so grateful, Lord, that you gave him to me. Thank you.