Sunday, February 22, 2015

I married a crazy person

"I married a crazy person. I married a crazy person. I married a crazy person...." I'm sure this must echo through Evan's head weekly if not daily. 

Smitten by love and following God's calling, he jumped on an airplane for the first time in his life and moved to Mozambique, a country he had never been to. And in doing this he turned down one of his dream jobs in Ottawa as a music teacher. He faithfully left all he loved and knew in Ottawa to pursue the unknown to which God was leading him. Needless to say, his faith inspires me daily.

His patience and attention to detail never cease to amaze me. His servant heart challenges me to better learn how to serve. Someone he always ends up doing the jobs nobody else wants to do as he always volunteers to help wherever is needed most. His love for me keeps me going even on the darkest of days. I am so grateful for this incredible man God has placed in my life. And his love for children constantly takes my breath away.

I've learnt a lot about visionaries and facilitators lately. There are visionaries like me who dream up big plans, hope and ideas and there are facilitators like Evan who help enable and carry out all of these dreams, plans and ideas. Evan once told me that for every seventy ideas I come up with, he has about one.

On Friday nights, we make the girls a special snack to eat during movie night. Often we buy chips, cookies, fruit, Popsicles or make baked goods, but this week I had a brilliant idea. When picking up groceries, I came across crates of sixty eggs. And so without consulting Evan I went ahead and bought one hundred and twenty eggs. Let's make fried eggs on bread! What a special treat that will be. The girls love fried eggs and will be so excited.

And so on Friday night I lit our old gas stove that looks like something out of the nineteen fifties and I grabbed three frying pans that are so old they may have been sold with the stove! Optimistically full of idealism and vision, I started cracking eggs and frying them up. Suddenly as the eggs began to burn and stick to the pan, my brilliant idea was suddenly turning into a burnt disaster. With burning eggs still frying on the element, I called Evan to the rescue from my cellphone and he quickly came to the kitchen. As he popped his head in the kitchen, he took one look at me and the crazy mess I had gotten myself into and without a single complaint or well deserved criticism, he jumped into action. We fried and we fried and then we put eggs in muffin tins and we baked and we baked. Then we cut thirty loaves of bread into seventy five portions and filled them with eggs. He never missed a beat. 

...Three hours later, the eggs were cooked, the sandwiches were made, the seventy five girls were fed movie night snack, the muffin tins were scrubbed till our fingers were raw, and the floor was mopped. This is what normal people do on Friday nights, right?

The irony of all this is that Evan, who will usually eat just about anything, has a severe dislike for eggs because his childhood allergy never allowed for him to acquire such a taste. Definitely a labour of love!

The truth is, I fall more and more in love with this man everyday. As I look around at the crazy messes I get myself into, I realize that anyone willing to have married me, must be crazy. And so I conclude by saying,

I married a crazy person. 

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