The Best Kind of Love

I know I'm spoiled and probably prejudiced to boot, but I am married to one amazing guy.  Valentine's Day is coming up and stores have been full of all those hearts and flowers and things which remind me of John and love. And I love being in love.

But there is so much more to love than the romantic dates.  There are things like
1 Corinthians 13:7 which says in the Amplified:  "[Love] is ever ready to believe the best."

Skip the chocolates. That would have been a marvelous gift to give my Sweetheart this past Thursday.  After a full day at the office, he had zipped in and out of the house in ten minutes so he could get to the airport in good time.  "Those guys," he said, shaking his head as he grabbed a few things for the class, "make me feel like I'm late.  I get there ten minutes before classes are scheduled to begin and they are already sitting there."

Then he kissed us goodbye and headed to the door, stopping only long enough to say, "By the way, this should be a shorter lesson tonight.  I'm just filling in for another instructor who can't make it, so I'm just going to have a time of question and answer and look over some maps. I should be home early."

Early?  Yay!  Usually these evening of flight instructing mean that he doesn't get home until 9:00.  It isn't terribly late, I know, but the quiet evening together after the children are in bed is largely eaten up. I wouldn't mind not spending most of my evening alone.

Maybe we should have defined "early."  I was thinking 8:00 or 8:30.  So by 8:20, I was halfway pacing the floor and wondering if I should jump on the treadmill for a spin, or if I shouldn't bother if he was nearly home.  I didn't like to bug him with a call or text if he was instructing.  And then I remembered my new-to-me phone has a cute little app on it called "Find Friends."

I tapped it.  And he was still at the airport.  He has a twenty minute drive which now changed the "early" to no sooner than 8:40.   So I chose the treadmill, boring ol' thing, and ticked off some lonely minutes that way.

At 8:40, the app still showed him at the airport.  And so it did at 9:00.  That was when I was just settling myself down for a pity party.  I mean, poor me anyway.  I was the one sitting at home alone for an extra-long evening instead of a short one; John was the guy getting to do what he loves and was having a full evening of it after all.

But then I got his text.  It said, "Sorry I'm late.  The guys were having a discussion on religion that I wanted to be in on."

I felt chastened. Instead of assuming John was taking his good ol' time in getting home (which would be out of character anyway), I should have known my noble husband was making himself available to speak a positive word for God.  I wanted John in on that conversation, too.  Maybe his influence on a few guys he otherwise would have zero contact with would be a long-lasting one.

I wish I would have remembered that love always believes the best.  It gives the benefit of the doubt.  No pity parties allowed for the person who loves like that.  Not even when circumstances chew the flowers off their stems.  When the romantic fuzzy feelings are missing, true love holds out strong.

That's the kind of love I want most of all.