“He’s a bit of all right!” said my Aussie friend Anna of her new husband. (She doesn’t call him “the DH,” as many bloggers I know refer to their dear husbands, but “RM”–the Right Man.) Anna has struggled with diet-triggered illnesses for a long time, and she’d just been diagnosed with Celiac disease on top of everything else. But not only didn’t RM moan and mope about having to make further modifications to their attempt at gluten-free living, not only did he give her his full support, but he also started speaking up for her when she wasn’t willing to stand up for her own needs.
Now, Anna’s hardly a meek little mouse. She’s the kind of woman who can plan to travel from Australia to Scotland, or vice versa, overland by herself–and she’d have made it, too, had world events not made the route too dangerous to attempt. She’s even confessed to having given up on the possibility of marriage because she was told she was “too much”: too smart, too vivacious, too curious. But it seems that on this point, she’s been too reticent and needed someone to have her back.
RM does. That’s… why he’s the Right Man for her.
I can daydream all sorts of like-to-haves about my Faramir. And if he looks like Brad Paisley or Gil McKinney, I wouldn’t object. 😉 But those aren’t essentials. What’s more important, to me, is the stuff that is gold but doesn’t glitter, qualities like being my advocate when I’m too exhausted or hungry or in pain to advocate for myself. I want someone who’ll recognize at once when I’ve hit my limit and will make sure I eat or sleep or do whatever else I need to do to recover my strength and clarity of mind. That’s not to say I can’t take care of myself, but it would be a lot easier to have some help.
I’m sure he’ll have burdens of his own that he’ll need me to share, too. Not knowing what they are, I can’t address them here and now. But I’ll want to help in whatever ways I can, because that’s love: bearing one another’s burdens and so fulfilling the law of Christ (Gal. 6:2). It’s not showy or spectacular. But then, what in this world that’s truly worth having is also worth much spectacle?
(Post title from Die Prinzen’s “Unspektakulär,” about a guy who’s pleasantly average–no big scandals, no showy weaknesses–and likes himself that way.)