Base Camp

This man of mine.

We've been calling him Base Camp since I started doing disaster and missions work.  It's actually a nickname Shawn gave himself.

Someone has to hold down the fort, feed the pets and look after the children when I'm not able to take them with me, right?

We always imagined this would be work we'd do together in our retirement years. But when the opportunities arose for me, Shawn didn't hesitate to start sending me with his best blessings.  I keep telling him we'll still do this together.  There's plenty more work to be done, still.  

A few weeks ago when I heard Shawn refer to himself as Base Camp at church, I just hugged him.  It hit me just how much he really is Base Camp in so many ways.  I was filled with so much love for Shawn, and all kinds of warm fuzzies.

Shawn isn't just here when I return, having taken care of everything in my absence.  He's here when I'm here, helping me take care of everything when life gets to be too much.  Shawn is right beside me, on days when life is what qualifies as normal around here.  He is my rock, even when he needs to crumble too.

Yes, there are times, days, and even weeks we don't mesh, we don't get it right, we get off track.  It's not a bad marriage, just a bad day.  And it's okay.  We're okay.  We talk (we fight), we forgive, we love, we move on.

I love this man.  I'm so grateful for him.  I'm so grateful I get to do life with him, raise our boys together.  I'm grateful I get to come home to him and wake up with him.  I'm grateful we get to roll our eyes together at our boys, then roll down our hill with them.  I'm so grateful to just be with this man.

I love my Base Camp.  I love returning to home base, to Shawn's arms, to his kisses.  I love that he's always here and I know I can count on him.

My dearest love, thank you for everything, and all that you are.