Wednesdays are full.
Full of planning, teenagers, and full of waiting.
Wednesdays are gloriously loud with two sessions of youth groups meetings and smaller life groups after. I leave love notes on his office desk and the porch light on.
With a pastor as a husband, the hours are wonky and his time is precious.
Kind of like farmers.
I come from generations of farmers and I think that kind of fortitude and flexibility has served me well as a pastor's wife.
And like my grandmother and great-grandmothers, I wait as dusk falls and fireflies twinkle. I wait for my husband to come in from the fields.
And like Arlene, Effie Marie, and Verina before me, I learn to keep dinner warm and keep strong beside a good man...waiting for a harvest.
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