A best friend. I want to be the first person he thinks of texting when he hears a funny story or wants to complain about the overtime at work. Who he pictures going with him to the Seahawks game.
An encourager. I want to help him pursue his dreams. On those days that just suck, I want to speak words of life to him. To find ways to let him know I care and am behind him 100%.
A helper. And it kills me because every feministic bone in my body is screaming at me for typing that. But it's true. I want to make a beautiful and relaxing home. I want to make breakfast for 2 in the morning, and spaghetti for dayssss. I want to help him fix the car and mow the lawn. I want to work hard in my career field to help make money not so much of an issue.
A mom. I want to have a big family with so much love and patience and jokes and silliness and loud laughter. I want to teach my kids what the difference is between chloroform and chlorophyll. I want to let them watch "Up" while we're all snuggled up on the couch. I want them to "read" their Bible with me before bed, and to get to tell them the Jesus stories over and over. I want to have foster kids who rebel and make us want to cry.
A sister in Christ. I want to go to church together. To sing about Jesus together. To pray together every day. To ask him tough questions and discuss our thoughts. To hold him accountable in the areas he's struggling with. To lead a community group with him.
That's just the beginning. I want to be someone he's proud of. When I walk in the bar while he's talking with his friends, I want him to be so excited to tell his friends "that's my wife!!"