For the past few months, my husband has been sick. Recently, he got worse.
After losing over 40lbs. in no more than six months, and struggling with severe anemia and exhaustion, he finally went to the doctor to see what could be done. From there to the hospital we went and, after four days, IV fluids, steroids, an iron transfusion and an introduction of an immunosuppressant, he is feeling better than he has in a very long time. And so am I.
I can't adequately explain how much I've struggled between anxiety, selfishness, worry, fear and hope over these past six months. It's a special sort of trial, I think, that a wife finds herself in when she sees her husband suffering and can't do anything much about it. It has been such an experience in slowly learning to trust God in all circumstances, really and fully believing that His plans are best. However, much of this growth needs to be attributed to the example of my husband through it all.
Now, many of you who know me well also know that I can be a bit dramatic when it comes to jumping to conclusions when emotions have anything to do with it. And many times I'd have thoughts of trying to raise our sweet baby boy on our own, not to mention carrying the weight of not being able to heal my best friend, and would just about lose it. Amidst this, Nick was consistent. Hardly ever complaining, he assured me that he would be just fine [whether or not he believed this himself, I'll probably never know. :)].
If it were me, I know I would have complained much more, been depressed much more, and altogether a sorry example of having faith in God. But not my husband. And through his faith, God brought peace to my heart over and over.
In writing this, I want to show what kind of a man I am blessed to call my own, and how thankful I still have him in my life. He is much more than I deserve and, two years later, I still can't believe he married me.
In short, I love my husband. More than ever.