Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!"
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| Me snuggling a newborn Levi |
The way she holds a sleeping babe... The way she nurses an ailing infant... The softness in her voice as she sings a lullaby... These are just a few of the true beauties of a woman.
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| Claire - holding a cicada |
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| Grandma Bowers at 18 |
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| Grandma Bowers now with Violet |
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| Emily |
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| Our ladies trip to the Bahamas |
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| Violet |
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| Granny |
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| Claire |
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| My mom and Sadie |
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| My girls at the farm in Iowa |
A week ago, I was helping at the local hospice home. Specifically, I was helping to feed a woman. She was very old and very frail and unable to speak - even a word. She was awake and watching as we women (strangers to her) - nurses and volunteers gathered around her and spoke to her. I was touched by the beauty taking place in that room as people whom she did not know clasped her hand, mopped her brow, spoon fed her, complimented her, caressed her face, and even kissed her forehead. The patient's eyes looked intently at each of us in turn, and I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. As I looked into her eyes I was noticed how beautiful and blue they were. They were striking. I told her so, and the corners of her mouth turned upward, ever so slowly, into a smile. This woman, disheveled and worn, ill and bedraggled, had undoubtedly seen many a better day. Had she been able to speak, she might have turned down such a compliment - as so many of us are wont to do, but she didn't. She just smiled. I spoke what we both knew but she surely doubted at that moment - she was beautiful.
One of my hospice patients died last week. He was my buddy for a year. As I sat by his bed a few days before he passed, I talked of news and weather and his health. He talked of beauty. In his old-fashioned way, he said, "Gee, you always look so nice. You're always smiling." "Gee, you have beautiful eyes." For a man too sick to get out of his bed, there were obviously no ulterior motives in his compliments... no veiled creepiness or manipulative ploys. He was closer to eternity than most of us will be for a long while. Yet - his soul was being fed by what he perceived. He reached out and we clasped hands. He pulled my hand under his chin and held it close - slowly falling asleep. I felt as I do with my children when they fall asleep next to me - that if I moved he would wake... and he did.
Ecclesiastes 3:11 says (NLT), "Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end."
We instinctively know by observing the world around us - particularly beauty (which, incidentally has little evolutionary value if you believe [the truth] that physical attractiveness does not assign worth to a person) that this world is not the end of our existence. It is not our permanent and only home. No matter how hard we fight it. Now matter how much we may deny it, we cannot see a sunset or a waterfall without knowing that we are not a whim of an evolutionary process.
Are women the only creatures that are beautiful? Are we the only thing that reflect eternity's promise? Hardly. Some of my most precious photos are of the handsome men in my life:
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| Austin - Summer 06 |
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| Austin - Autumn 07 |
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| Mark sharing nature with our children |
My marriage is so happy, and I mean it's not just facebook happy. It's genuinely happy. We have hard times. We have disagreements. We have everyday life, bills, chores, and children but at the end of each day I am happier than I was the last. I don't say that to brag. I say it because people often ask me that question... if we are genuinely happy - if we are "doing okay". I'm not offended by the question. I think people are either genuinely concerned or genuinely curious about our "second time around". Either of which is understandable to me. After all, our marriage this time around wasn't built on strong feelings as much as on logical thought and a lot of prayer. It was a marriage that met - not so much on desires of passion and longing (as immaturity often dictates) but needs of a practical nature, needs like partnership, friendship, companionship, and help. Ironically, this "mariage of convenience" as I sometimes jokingly call it, is what I've found makes our marriage work - the end result of which has been a deeper passion and more intense longing than I've ever before experienced.
I must admit that a large part of my happiness stems from the fact that my husband is aging. To me, every day older he gets, he becomes more golden. He is handsomer, stronger, and more alive than the days before, and I will explain after I tell you another story.
About two days after that day in his parents' bathroom, he called me (as he did every night) and said, "When I'm over at mom and dad's, I keep going into their guest room. It still smells like you." It may seem funny that I recall such simple vulnerabilities, but maybe those are the types of romantic moments that are permitted two single parents. Unlike me, my husband isn't verbose. He doesn't waste words. The longer I've known him, the more precious these memories are, because, in a world of flattery and exaggeration, his utter sincerity was a rare gem. He wasn't trying to persuade me of his affection. He was just being honest. I also say this, because he has a history of using compliments quite sparingly.
I was talking with a friend this morning, and we got on the subject of our husbands. We both agreed that they become more attractive with age. I think that - whether or not he could put it into words - the older he gets, the more Mark realizes that vulnerability and openness is not a weakness. It is a strength. When a man is young, he is selfish and insecure - largely lacking the ability to love and certainly feeble to express it. As they age, the best of men realize that to get they must first give. Over time and through giving, they become secure and sure, and that is what makes a man attractive - at least in my opinion. Our husbands have become men by setting aside what other people think and doing what they feel is right - unabashedly and unapologetically. My husband's soft side is what makes him most attractive to me these days.
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| Mark and Levi |
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| Mark and sleeping Claire |
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| Mark and my girls |
