Every morning I come to my desk for time with God, time to plan out my day, and to answer e-mails.  I am an early riser, which means I am usually up an hour or more before my husband.  When my husband gets up, he comes into the office, gives me a big hug and says, ” I love you today.”  I always respond with, “I love you - 2″.  This is my little way of saying, “I love you bunches more.” I love that this is our morning routine and feel blessed that we are given the chance to express this.  I know many couples who are up and out the door each morning with a quick peck on the cheek. 

Recently, my husband bought a bag of Valentine conversation hearts for our grandchildren. (Grandparents are allowed to contribute to future dentist bills.) This is the candy that has little sweetheart messages stamped on them. I opened the bag early one morning, and poured out the candy on paper towel to search for messages.  I’ve been a little gremlin this week leaving candy heart messages on my husband’s computer before he gets up in the morning.  It’s another way I’m finding to say, “I love you - 2″.

He got a chuckle out of yesterday’s message -

I Love You - Sugar Lips

Additional two-heart messages I pulled from the bag of candy are -

• Guess What? - I’m In Love
• Friend 4 Ever - Sweet Thing
• I Want U - Honey Pie
• E-Mail Me - You Flirt
• No Doubt -   Head/Over Heels
• Heart Throb - You’re Good 4 Me
• Too Cool - You Flirt

I’ve been thinking that I should purchase a few more bags of candy hearts to surprise my husband with new love notes.  Hopefully, they have different messages.  I’m lucky he doesn’t like to eat them - I would be afraid of sending him into diabetic shock.

When things have quieted down in our home, the kids have left the nest, the student loans are paid off, and we have peaceful evenings together - I am stirring things up. I went back to college this week, and feel like I’ve lost my mind.  I find that rather amusing for someone who wants to be a counselor.   

I took my last college course ten years ago, and things are markedly different.  I am the oldest person in the class; older than my professor.  Thank God there is another student with gray hair who looks to be in his early forties. I am so glad my blond hair is mixing in well with my gray.  Highlights help!

As everyone went around the class introducing themselves, many mentioned how old they were, if they were married or had children.   I was praying the professor would wait to call on me because I hit a moment of shocked realization -  I have 10-15 years on the other students.   I know I am not the first person to go back to school at the age of 51, but there was no way I was sharing my age. 

I am working through 12-18 hours of homework, and my anxiety level is accelerating at the speed of light.  I keep doing deep breathing exercises.  My contacts are drying up on my eyelids after hours on the computer and reading through three chapters in my textbook.  I have confidence in myself, but I am in need of a booster injection. 

My dear husband is extremely supportive.  He greeted me with a big hug and kiss, and said he missed me Monday night while I was gone for four hours.  He set up 24 on TIVO, so we could watch it together Tuesday evening and enjoy our couch/snuggle time 

As I look at my calendar and plan out assignments for the weeks ahead, I have this sinking feeling that change is coming to couch/snuggle time. 

After the holidays are over, I encourage my husband to join me in cleansing our bodies of sugar, caffeine, and carbohydrate overload.   He had the unfortunate experience of birthing kidney stones a few years ago, and this has been a good health regimen that avoids new birthing experiences.

We tried a five-day fast with organic juices and homemade vegetable broth last year, and my husband was ready to eat all the shoes in his closet and the wallboard throughout the house. I conceded with raw vegetables, fruits, and organic tomato soup this year. This is an especially trying time of year since it is so darn cold in Chicago; all you want to do is hibernate.   My husband readily admits to being on carbohydrate overload to fuel himself with energy when the temperature hits zero.

Our first day of detoxification went as follows:

9:00am - fruit smoothie and organic decaffeinated tea

10:00am - hunger pains set in and my husband is pleading for a bagel. I offered him a  Cutie - no not me, but a delicious little specimen which is a cross between a clementine and mandarin orange.  He looked at me with a puzzled look since a Cutie is the approximate size of a lime, and asked how many of them he was allowed to eat in one day. 

11:00am - He is back in the kitchen growling with hunger and telling me he couldn’t believe I talked him into this crazy detoxification again. 

12:00 noon -  I make a salad the size of the kitchen table and offer him organic tomato soup with three oyster crackers in his cup.  He asks where the rest of the crackers are.

1:00pm - It’s Cutie time along with two Excedrin for the caffeine withdrawal.

2:00pm - I hear him in the kitchen with paper crackling in the background making a cup of soup and stuffing his mouth with oyster crackers.  He sneers at me and hugs the crackers to his chest.

3:00 pm - It’s Cutie time.

4:00pm - He asks if it’s time for dinner, and I mention the cut up veggies to snack on in the frig.  His lip lifts upward on one side like Elvis and I hear a growl.

5:00pm - It’s Cutie and Excedrin time again.

5:30pm - He on his knees next to my desk, crying and pleading for dinner. 

6:00pm -  We sit down to another salad, which he thanks me for making, then asks, “What are we having for a snack tonight?”  We clean up from dinner, and as I ask for a hug - I get another growl.

7:00pm - He asks if I will make him another salad.

8:00pm - Time for bed because he feels he’s going to passout.

9:00pm - Get up to go to the bathroom.

10:00pm - Get up to go to the bathroom.

11:00pm - Get up to go to the bathroom.

12:00midnight - You get the picture, a detox makes you pee a lot.

Day 2 was much better and so were subsequent days.  We made it through five days of detox. 

This morning he was smiling as he ate half a bagel, juice, and a bowl of oatmeal.  I have my husband back from the edge of starvation, a few pounds lighter, and willing to give me big hugs and kisses for helping him avoid future birthing experiences.

On a recent road trip, I had the chance to read a new book by Dr. Gary Smalley and Ted Cunningham called From Anger to Intimacy: How Forgiveness Can Transform Your Marriage.  I am a big fan of Dr. Smalley and have read many of his books, but I especially like the perspective of Ted Cunningham, a young pastor from Missouri.

There are terrific concepts throughout this book, but let me provide you with some of my favorites.

• I.  When anger takes up residence in a marriage, sexual intimacy moves out.  Anger is like a vacuum; it sucks the tenderness, gentleness and honor out of the relationship.

II.  If left unchecked, anger can result not only in physical disease but also emotional and spiritual disease.  Anger may be taking a bigger toll on your relationships and life than you realize.

III.  There are three main outlets for anger:  You can (1) stuff it, (2) spew it or  (3) study it.  The good news is that if you study anger, you can learn to resolve conflict, hurt and pain in a healthy way.

This is a wonderful book to read on your own, with your spouse, or to recommend for a small group study.  However, it should come with a warning:  PLAN ON SEEING YOUR REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR.

I grew up an Army brat.  My father was in the military 22 years and was a medic in Vietnam.   It was not an easy life as I watched my mother struggle to take care of three children alone, and put food on the table.  We ate a lot of toasted cheese, tuna casseroles, split pea soup, and creamed eggs on toast.  To this day, I cannot stand the smell of any of these items and would rather eat raw octopus.

My father came back from Vietnam a changed man, and not for the better.  He could not adapt to civilian life or hold down a job.  He still had the wanderlust of traveling across the world in his blood and often left our home without telling my mother where he was going.  She would get a call several days later when he arrived somewhere a thousand miles away. Unfortunately, my parent’s marriage did not survive the stresses of military life, and they divorced when I was fifteen.

Over this past year, the marriage of my newlywed niece imploded after the return of her husband from Iraq.  Her husband decided he did not need his PTSD medications and withdrew cold turkey.  The experience has been devastating for the family to watch.  There are feelings of helplessness when there is no marital support system within the military at a local level.

If you watch the news or read the newspaper, you will find that the marriages of our soldiers in Afghanistan and Iraq are dissolving at rapidly rising rates.  There were over 10,200 failed marriages in the military for the budget year ended September 30, 2008 per The Associated Press.  This is a sad statistic, and I feel the warriors at home, and the warriors in the field, need our prayers for protection over their marriages.

When our soldiers come home, how can we support them?

• Welcome them home by celebrating.
• Build friendships.
• Invite them to church.
• Watch their children.
• Be willing to listen.
• Pray for their marriages.

Our country has sent these men and women off to war. Let’s embrace them in a loving all-encompassing support system that will strengthen their marriages when they come home.

There is a circus act where plates are spinning on sticks, and the clown runs back and forth from one end of the sticks to the other to keep them all spinning.  This circus act has many similarities to marriage.  We have multiple plates filled with obligations and relationships spinning at one time, and without God’s daily guidance, it can feel overwhelming to keep them all going.

One of my spinning plates is my MIL.  She visited with us last week.  For some DIL’s this may be worse than eating liver, but we’ve always gotten along well.  She has a great sense of humor and is a fabulous grandmother.  However, as she is getting older, and living on her own since my FIL passed away four years ago, her feistiness is increasing, her health is decreasing, and my level of concern for her is something I have to hand over to God on a daily basis.

The  spinning plates I feel are beginning to wobble are:

• When will the next illness incapacitate her?
• What do we do with her 110-pound Rottweiler she calls her “baby”?
• Is she taking care of herself hygienically?
• Is she eating well enough?
• Is her home clean enough for a surprise Health Department inspection?
• Is she able to drive without causing harm to herself or someone else?

My husband and I drove mom home over the weekend, which is 12-13 hours round trip. When we arrived Friday afternoon and opened the door, her 110-pound baby had been shedding for several weeks and tufts of hair the size of tumbleweeds were floating across the family room floor.   I wondered what her housekeeper has been doing.  I vacuumed her home for close to an hour and my husband went through the house with several dusting mitts. The refrigerator was practically empty and the freezer was full of frozen dinners with enough sodium to fill The Dead Sea. We headed off to the grocery store, so I could make several meals and freeze them along with fresh fruit and vegetables.

We asked mom if she is getting out during the week for fresh air and a little shopping.  No.  Her days are spent in bed, or on the couch, watching television from 8am until 8 pm.  She says this makes her happy and she doesn’t always have energy to do more.

Saturday evening I asked if she would like a pedicure and manicure, and she responded with a huge “YES”.  I sucked in my breath when I saw the length of her toenails.   During our last visit, I took her for a manicure and pedicure as a treat for her birthday. At the time, she agreed it would be a good thing to do once a month.

On our drive home, I shared with my husband that I feel our “mom plate” is close to crashing to the floor. It was difficult conversation to have. He knows that he and his brothers have hard decisions to make soon.  My husband said something to me that was very revealing. He said, “I like it better when I drive her home by myself.  I don’t notice the things you do about her home and her health.  When you tell me what you see, I become anxious knowing what is ahead of us.”

Lastly, he said, “Thank you for loving my mother.”