staceybooks

Earlier this week, I told my husband if he needed help knocking out some of his lawn care jobs, I’d be willing to tag along. Sometimes, it’s just nice to sit on a mower and not worry about anything. You can throw your phone on focus mode, only allow calls from your kids (the important family 😉), and let the rest of the world fade into the background.

But truthfully, my offer was more than just about getting out of the house, know…Netflix was calling my name. Acts of service is his love language. Helping him do something he’s passionate about, especially when it involves getting things done, means the world to him. And honestly, I’ve watched him battle every obstacle imaginable while trying to build this business. These past two weeks especially have tested him in ways I can’t even put into words. But he hasn’t quit. He’s kept going.

And today, for the first time in a long time, we went together.

We climbed into his new-to-him Dodge Ram, equipment loaded in the back, headed to the first job of the day. He’s already had some miles in it, but this was our first time riding in it side by side.

Now, I won’t lie…I’ve already tried to get fired. It’s kind of a running joke between us. I’m not exactly the model employee, I tend to find a ditch or somehow steer into a pond…and yet, I’ve somehow managed to hang on to this unpaid position.

I may not end the day in shock from a Netflix finale, but I’m definitely ending it with a sunburn and a reminder that love doesn’t always come wrapped in pretty packages. Sometimes, it looks like dusty boots, sun-soaked skin, shared playlists in a truck, and standing beside the one you love when the dream feels both heavy and holy.

We’re building something, he is, really, but I get to be a small part of it. And today, I wouldn’t have traded that seat in the truck, or even the mower, for anything.