Dear Husband, Before You Go

Dear Husband, Before You Go

Dear Husband,

Here we are. It sneaks up on us every year. The season is upon us.

I don't ever really know how to prepare, or if there's even a way to do that. I do know that every year it gets a little easier.

Maybe it's because I know what to expect, or that the kids are getting older, or that I'm starting to need you less – I don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing.

Maybe it's that I've grown accustom to the ebbs and flows, hard seasons and not-quite-so-hard seasons, of this life we live.

But before it's here, while I still have some of my sanity intact and am emotionally stable (for the most part), I want you to know something. It's really important that you remember this in a few months if, for some reason, I seem mad at everyone and everything (note: blame the kids).

I love this season. I really do. Will I grow tired? Sure. Will I feel overwhelmed every now and then? Definitely. Will I hope it lasts forever and also hope it ends soon? Yep. Will I take it out on you? I hope not, but if I'm honest, I probably will.

I'll probably slam the dishes into the dishwasher with a little more gusto when I do it for the twenty-second time in a row.

I'll probably say something to the effect of, "I'm so tired of doing everything by myself," and then feel guilty later.

I'll probably desperately wish you were home when the kids start crying because it's been a long week and they've been up way past their bedtime too many nights to count. I might long for just one day that you'd come home at 5 or 6 instead of 8, or 9, or midnight.

I'll probably cry once or twice and not even know why. (Don't ask why.) But please know, on those hard days, when it seems like I'm SO over it, I don't begrudge this life we chose one bit.

I am not bitter. I don't wish you were anything else but what and who you are. Not for one second. If there's a day I appear to resent it all, remind me of all the things I love.

I love the knot in my stomach before a big game, the getting decked out in school colors and loading the car up with way too much stuff, the screaming after an overtime win, the hugging wives around me knowing that play and that night and that season have bonded us forever.

I love finding you on the field and kissing you after a win, or a loss.

I love the sport, the players, the community, the staffs we've been a part of.

I love that our life is an adventure that we're on together.

But you know what I love most?

I love how much you love it. There is no doubt in my mind you were created to do this. This is your calling, which makes it our calling. But that doesn't mean it's easy. Lord knows it's not. It just means it's worth all the long seasons, angry emails, and close losses. 

What a sweet gift from God to know in your bones you are created for such a heavy purpose: shaping boys into good men in a world so desperate for them.

So in a few months, when you wonder if I hate this season, I want you to know... I live for these months. I promise. I love this life we've made. This season and all. This season especially. Now let's go make a playoff run.


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