Be a David

It's officially time for me to brag on the "good looking guy with the muscles and tattoos" that so many of you ask me about when I post pictures.  

David and I started to date at the very end of 2022.  Dating in this life stage is H.A.R.D.  guys.  So hard.  Everyone has lived an entire life, and has the baggage and hurt that goes with it.  Being able heal from it and set some of it aside in order to try and foster a healthy relationship takes a lot of work.  I've been divorced since I was 32, and by 39 I had completely and fully come to the place that I was 100% A-ok with being single for the rest of my life if that's what God had in store for me.  Enter David.

We're like oil and water some days.  We're both "right fighters" and can have a hair-trigger temper when you rub us the wrong way.  Our arguments sometimes go from 0 to 100 in 3 seconds flat.  I basically never think I'm wrong, and neither does he.  We've both got hard pasts in their own right which can shape how we view the world and other people.  To say the odds are stacked against us is putting it mildly. 

Saying I owe my life to David wouldn't be an overstatement.  Back in June, when I was scheduled for my breast MRI, I told David I was going to cancel the appointment.  I had been out of work for most of the year to that point, and MRIs are incredibly expensive.  He said "hasn't it been 18 months since your last one? Don't skip it.  I can help you and we'll figure out how to pay for it." So, I kept the appointment.  I don't let myself think about what could have happened if I had waited even 6 months to have that MRI.  And low and behold, a new House bill had been passed that covers diagnostic imaging for women like me at 100%.  So that MRI ended up costing me (us) nothing.

When I was diagnosed, we were realistic and adult about it.  We talked about the reality of it, what it would mean, how hard it would be.  I gave him an out.  I told him I understood what it would mean for him to stay with me through this, and that I realized when he asked me on a date back in December, he didn't plan for this.  He didn't take the out.  Neither of us knows where this road will take us, but he didn't bat an eye and stayed by my side.  He said "I'm here to take care of you and do what I can to help you get better. I'm here for Jack and Sarah too, and their mom needs to get better."

This road is a challenge.  We're allowing it to make us grow and be better.  It's teaching us to be more patient, forgiving, and that being "right" isn't all that important (most of the time 😉).  David is showing me what it feels like to be cared for and protected, something I've never truly felt since leaving my Dad's house when I was 18.  He's showing me that I have worth and value that reaches far beyond my hair, my body shape, or my energy level.  Through him, I am learning that love can overlook and overcome a multitude.  I am also learning that I'm worth sticking around for, through the disagreements, arguments, and illness; that I'm worth letting the sun set on a hard day to wake up and make the next day a great one; that I'm worth fighting for, even when the day-to-day becomes scary, unknown and uncomfortable; that I'm worth the effort to change and persevere for.  He tells me how strong I am, how proud he is of me, and how beautiful I am.  He's being a human reflection of how God sees me, in a way I've never experienced in my life.  

Last Friday, David held my hand while I had an anaphylactic reaction to my chemo.  I stopped breathing, passed out, and my heart almost stopped.  He was asked to go into the hallway, and looked on as a team of 15 doctors and nurses flooded the room to try and save my life.  After a double dose of epinephrine, he was right back at my bedside as I began to breathe again and color returned to my face.  Cancer isn't for wimps.  This is heavy and hard, and I have to battle a new demon every day it seems.  And every day, David is there, showing me I'm worth the fight.

Be a David.

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