My husband didn’t really know what he wanted to be when he grew up. As a young boy, aside from aspiring to be like Jacques Cousteau, he didn’t have a dream profession. 

One of my all-time fave pics of the Hubs

But the one thing the Hubs says he always wanted was to be a dad. 


On April 12, 1990, I assisted him in achieving this dream, thank you very much, when Nate was born. Our baby had a cone-head but to us, he was gorgeous. Four years later, the Hubs’ prayers were answered again this time with Aaron. Our middle OS was a juicy butterball, we were smitten. Lastly, in 1996, the Hubs became the father of a ginger. Ike is our orange hair, freckle face child who routinely makes life interesting. The Hubs is the youngest of three sons. He knows what it’s like to live with brothers and now he can speak with authority about raising sons. That’s pretty cool if you ask me. 

Look at that snappy dresser rockin’ the red tie!

I surveyed the long list of prospective suitors and husbands fancying me nearly 25 years ago. 🙂 Trust me when I say that the field of eligible men was miles long.  Seriously! ;% I considered each man’s potential spousal and parental qualifications and compiled graphs and charts or at least that’s how I’m choosing to remember things! Finally out of a field of many (ahem), I picked the Hubs. God has reminded me that I chose well. 

There ain’t nothing wimpy about needing your dad

Observation of the Hubs‘ impressive skills as a father have come to light during our recent health concerns with Aaron. Per Aaron’s request, the Hubs was often upstairs by his side. Our 16 year old OS wanted his daddy to rub his head. When teenage guy is reduced to saying, “Daddy,” you know he’s in pain.  


I can attest to Mark’s talents. When the Hubs and I were first married, he would rub my head and gently tug on my hair when my head felt like it was going to burst due to migraines. 


Our bedroom was clothed in darkness, the Hubs sat next to his sweet boy and rubbed his head with just the right amount of pressure. Then on Saturday night, we sat by Aaron’s bedside at the hospital. Aaron could barely utter a word. The pain was so great. With it being the third hospital visit in days, the Hubs and I were worried and exhausted. As desperate and tired parents, we felt helpless but I heard Mark when he said aloud by the bed rail, “give this to me.” 

Three year old Nate with a fractured skull, don’t recommend it

Without a second thought, the Hubs would have traded brains with our son. If he could have assumed Aaron’s excruciating pain, he would have done it. I felt that way when Nate was three years old and he fell out of our second-story bedroom window. Our oldest OS suffered a fractured skull and as we waited for the test results in the waiting room, I told the doctor that if Nate needed any body part, any part at all, the doctor could take it from me and I would die, no questions asked. I gave him permission without hesitation. My hope is that everyone who reads this post has no idea what I’m writing about but if you’re a parent, you probably get it. 


Through all of this I too, have cried out for my Father. My Heavenly Father listened to my pleas and sustained me. I have sensed His presence and leaned on Him for strength. 


The Hubs wasn’t saying “give this to me” to anyone but the Lord. Such is the father’s love for his son. As I hear the sweet sounds of my middle OS strumming on his guitar, this Wednesday night is especially lovely.