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Jen Pollock Michel

( author + writer + speaker )

Love Letter

I promised him a love letter for Christmas.

Photo Credit

And promptly forgot.

I remembered today when he took the driver's seat of the U-haul.

We'd left Ohio this morning and were heading to Illinois, traveling to see both of our families this holiday. On our way through Indiana, we'd visit with my aunt and pick up the three pieces of antique furniture we'd inherited from my grandmother.

Sometimes you imagine your husband is Jim Carrey. Sometimes just seeing the sight of him just makes you laugh.

Especially when he's driving a U-haul.Diminutive and sour-faced. Grumbling under his breath.

We have laughed well together, these 15 years of marriage.

We've managed the laughing even with five kids.

Days ago, we visit a conservatory with my mom and the kids. It's in one of the greenhouses that we meet a rather grumpy macaw. Ryan's puts his finger close to the cage. The macaw squawks, sending Andrew running away it a fit of tears.

Ryan quips, "I guess he's not in the Christmas spirit."

One -liners do this girl good.

We all know I'd take clipping my toenails too seriously if I had time and energy.

Yesterday, Ryan tells me how he'd heard a podcast of John and Nancy Ortberg preaching in their church in California.

"She was good, but he was even better."

The feminist in me bristles. "Are you saying that just because she's a woman?"

"No. Seriously. She's really good. It's just that I respect John so much."

And as if to imagine that we'd ever find ourselves side by side behind a pulpit someday, Ryan adds, "I'd speak alongside you any day of the week. You'd be way better than me."

I'm flattered. Momentarily.

"But people would like me more."