Another Five Minute Friday. Today’s prompt: Catch
He threw the peanut butter to me the other day. It was time to put it away and even though my reflexes were hazy and my senses were dull, I reached out and grabbed it. “Nice catch,” he said. “There was a time not too long ago that you just would have watched it hit the floor.”
It’s true. A decade or so of being the slow, uncoordinated, timid girl in P.E. class made me a little reticent to reach out and catch the things that were thrown at me. I only catch things that are thrown at me when I trust the one who is throwing them.
I do trust him. And the God that we trust has thrown a lot at us in the eight years that we’ve been married. We adjusted to Navy life together. We’ve weathered deployments and detachments, my mother’s illness and death, depression, the health craziness of the last year, and the ups and downs of three kids. He’s been by my side every step of the way (even when he was on a boat and not physically by my side). So when he throws things to me, even when I’m not looking up, I don’t hesitate to reach out and grab what he’s tossed. He knows me, and he knows my rhythms clumsy though they may be. He’s held my hand through the pain of contractions and the fog of depression and the pain of surgery and pain of a post operative infection that left me temporarily with a lump on the side of my neck that could be described as nothing less than grotesque. He’s walked through all of it with me.
I trust him enough to catch what he tosses my way. And I know we can face whatever else gets thrown at us together.