The glow of the moon lit a path to the back door. He followed it from his workshop and went in the back door of the house. His projects always kept him busy. Sometimes, even into the night.
He unlaced his boots and dropped them in the corner of the kitchen, out of the way so he didn’t track in any more sawdust. She always fussed at him for tracking in more for her to clean up.
The house was quiet…and dark, except for a little, flickering light coming from the living room. He walked through the kitchen toward the living room and stopped.
There she was, basking in front of the fireplace. All cozied up in her favorite slipcovered chair. The light of the fire encircled a halo-like ring around his adored bride, as he liked to call her. Fitting, he thought, for one who was such a perfect creation of God.
Standing in the doorway, he stared at his beautiful wife. He noticed the effects of her heart’s pain had distorted the delicate features of her face.
She may not have been beautiful to anyone else. But to him? She was a knockout. He felt as if his heart would jump out of his chest with love for her. He just knew she could hear his heart pounding.
She’d been sitting by the fire, all curled up in her favorite blanket her mother made for her, waiting for him. Used tissues littered the floor around her.
She longed for his presence, for him to sit with her by the fire. Longing to be held and comforted. So she waited, silently. Knowing he would come. He always did.
She didn’t hear him close the back door. She didn’t even notice his soft sock-steps coming toward her. But there he was. Standing over her.
Startled, she looked up…and smiled a half smile at him. He smiled back.
He knew she was still hurting from recent events and wasn’t ready to talk. But he was there for her. Just. Being. There.
Without a word, he knelt down in front of her. He reached under the blanket and gently pulled out her fuzzy, bunny-slippered feet and removed the bunnies. He began to caress her feet as he tenderly held them in his callused hands.
The well of tears overflowed once again. The well she thought had been cried dry. But here came the stream of tears again. He was always so gentle and caring to her. Always knowing just what to do for her.
No one could ever love me like he does, she thought.
As if triggered by the foot rub, the words came gushing out, intermingled with deep sobs. All the hurt and pain rolled out with the strength of a fire hose.
He scooped her up and sat down on the couch, with her on his lap.
Oh, such sweet love! Such genuine, giving love. Truly captures your heart, doesn’t it? And that, my sweet friend reading this, is the love the heavenly Bridegroom has for His precious Bride…YOU!
You are that undeniable beauty, that adored Bride, the one who makes the Bridegroom’s heart pound with love.
When you sit by the fireside of pain, He will scoop you up and sit you on His lap. He will hold you close and comfort you with His warm love.
He will sit with you. And listen. While you pour out to Him all that is in your heart.
Know He will always come to your side when you need Him. You may not hear His footfall but He will always be there for you.
No one will ever love you like He does!