Miracle, of mirus in Latin, means wonderful.
For all the times I’ve wrote myself off as a man, and believed that people would be repulsed by my weight, I’m awestruck to have my wife in my life.
Because I never had the coveted six pack, or that I was never picked for sports or that I didn’t know how to flirt, I deeply believed I would live loveless and alone.
Until Pearls came into my life.
My life struck by a wonderful love.
The kind of wonder, like a mountain top view, that takes tremendous effort.
Marriage takes the grit of self-sacrifice, the humility of compromise and the humour of a 1000 comedians.
It’s a miracle sustained by nourishing affirmations, healing olive branches of apologies and joyful service of the other.
We are wonderfully made for the other.
My wife is a gift from God, an answer to my desperate pleas for someone to love and to hold.
My mission is simple: to support her with tenderness like a well worn sock and to challenge her to be the woman she is made to be.
And to receive all the myriad mirus she lavishes on my soul.