The one in which I brag on my husband.

When his birthday rolls around (in just a few short weeks), I’ll probably post a cheesy little ditty about him.
I usually post about him on our anniversary, too.
But in general, I don’t talk too much about Marshall on my blog.

He doesn’t mind that I blog, but he’s also a much more private person than I am.

But right now, I am writing about him not because it’s some special occasion, but because he deserves it.

Marsh and I traveled a long and sometimes arduous road to get to where we are today.
We haven’t had nearly as much heartache as some, but times haven’t always been just peachy either.

When we were newlyweds, we moved to a town where neither of us knew anyone.
I started a job that I hated.
Marshall started med school and we never saw each other.
My grandmother died.
I sunk like a ship into a frustratingly persistent depression.

It wasn’t pretty.
I wasn’t particularly nice
And he wasn’t particularly capable of keeping up with both his studies and my craziness.

But we tried.
And we grew.
And we stuck it out.
And, by the end of med school, a lot of things had changed.

He was happy with his job.
I was happy with mine.
Carter had joined our family and we both loved being parents.
We were in a little house on the hill that we loved.
We found a church that we loved.
Life in residency was hectic, but good.

It could be, at times, rather frustrating.
He would sometimes get more sleep on call than I would at home with the kids.
There would be times where the kids wouldn’t see him for several days at a time.
And sometimes it was lonely…for both of us.

When residency ended, I think we both had pipe dreams of how wonderful it would be for him to be in private practice.
Don’t get me wrong, our lives are good.
We have and are able to do because of his job.

But there are times when residency seems like “the good ol’ days”.

Being in practice with just one other physician means that he is on call every other night and every other weekend.
Two and a half years of q2 call is starting to drain him, I can tell.
I must admit that there are many times when I think, “Wasn’t he just on call???”
And there are times when I want to whine and shout, “Just come home!!!” or “Send ’em to the ER”.

Just within the last week, we’ve had multiple encounters with his work that pulled him beyond the call of duty.
On Sunday we weren’t sure he’d make it in time to be there for our family’s part in worship
as we read scripture and lit the advent candle.
(He ended up driving in long enough to light the candle and then he headed back to the hospital.)
One night the kids and I sat in the parking lot of a restaurant for an hour and a half waiting on him.
And right now(at 10pm) he’s on his way in to check on a patient who called.

He originally directed them to the ER.
“The child has been sick all day.”
I saw the wheels turning in his head.
“Why didn’t they call me earlier?  We could have knocked this out in the office this afternoon.”
Thinking…thinking…
“But they have this other kid who really doesn’t need to be out tonight.
And the co-pay at the ER is going to be a lot.”
Wheels still turning.
“Tell me what to do,” he says.
And we both know…
we both know that even though we were planning to sit and watch a movie together,
even though it’s late and he’s tired,
even though they probably should have called earlier…
He can help them.

He can save them a trip to the ER
(which is destined to be packed and germ-infested thanks to the holidays and winter colds and flu).
He can save them a co-pay.
He can save them a lot of time.

And so he calls back…
“Why don’t you just meet me in the office in 30 minutes?”

And I tear up a little.
I would normally blame it on pregnancy hormones,
But this time it’s because I’m truly grateful to be married to someone so wonderful.
And because I am well aware of how special he is-
To me, and to others.

He is a true servant.
For him, being a doctor really isn’t about the money.
For him, being a doctor really isn’t about the prestige.
For him, being a doctor really isn’t about being smarter or better than anyone else.

For him, being a doctor is a calling.
Being a doctor is what he was created to do.
And I, unfortunately, don’t always remember to tell him how great he is at it.

His patients are lucky to have a doctor who cares,
But we-his family-are so blessed to have him in our lives
(Even when it means we have to do stuff without him or postpone our plans).

He makes me want to be a better person.
He shows me daily what it means to put others before self.
He is my hero.

And I am so glad that he chose me.