Witty, Wise, Punny, Patient

An expansion from an item on my Thankfulness list.

She’s a good pretender. She looks like an extrovert: outgoing, passionate, witty, sharp. She communicates better than anyone I know — and I’m jealous for it. I envy her succinct way of speaking, her calm demeanor while presenting to a group of people, her ability to pass on wisdom and logic without reading it off of a paper. Few people know she’s actually an introvert, and enjoys staying in with her family.

She seems to thrive in stressful conditions. I’m not surprised. She got it from someone in the family tree, because her brother and her son live the same way. She’s ambitious and fast-working, so she can take on five or six or twelve projects at a time and not burn out. At least, she won’t let me see her burn out.

Her mind is quick like Aesop’s hare, but steady like his tortoise. She rivals Jane Austen and Shakespeare in wit. You think she speaks well — she writes as well as she speaks. She taught me everything I know, and yet knows so much more than me. I could send her my current written works and she’d still send them back with red markings and suggestions in the margins. She’ll probably read this and find my notorious grammatical error — the unnecessary, extra comma I drop here and there. She wrote and copy-edited for the greatest theologians and now teaches high school students how to pack a punch in ten pages or less.

She can tolerate the highest levels of physical pain. She can barricade her spirit with the words and truths of the Lord in the face of spiritual or emotional pain. She’s strong — one of her greatest personality traits — and she taught her daughters to be the same.

She’s quick to forgive and give advice. She’s not a hugger, but that’s okay. Neither am I. I still know she loves me. Her house welcomes everyone with open arms, and her cooking warms the soul.

She’s my momma, my “Bubba”, my closest and dearest friend.

He can look intimidating. He has that type of disposition. But he’s not, not to me.

He is kind. He is always kind. He never says anything out of spite, hate, or anger. I could count the number of times I’ve seen him visibly angry on one hand. He doesn’t need to be angry. When I sinned against the Lord and disobeyed him, the mere thought of disappointing him broke me into uncontrollable sobs. And when I’d tell him this fear, he’d quell it with a single, simple response. “You don’t disappoint me.”

Unlike his wife, he’s a severe introvert. Some might call it anti-social. He doesn’t dislike people. He might even enjoy some peoples’ company. He just prefers to stay at home. He’s okay with standing along the back wall of the church foyer, observing instead of mingling. He’ll give a quick smile and engage in conversation, but he won’t migrate around a group of people and talk to everyone. It’s exhausting. I get it. At gatherings, after mingling for a bit, I’d stand on the outskirts with him. We usually wouldn’t talk. But that’s fine. He’s the type where being silent with him is just as fulfilling as having a deep conversation with an extrovert.

He is godly. He reads extensively about the Bible, about Christ, about biblical doctrine, about how to defend against unbiblical doctrine. He teaches his children in the ways of the Lord and prays for them daily. I know this, not because I eavesdrop, but because it’s his best way of loving us. He convicts me of my sin, and not because he boasts in his holiness, but because he reminds me of God’s truth with such love and patience.

He is visibly passionate about five things:

  • Everything concerning God, biblical theology, saving grace, and his own conversion.
  • His dog.
  • His gun and his right to own one.
  • Humorous stories about his children.
  • Puns he makes up while brushing his teeth in the morning.

He models what a good husband should look like for his daughters. He serves his wife. He firmly but lovingly cuts her short when he sees her besetting sin taking foothold. He does the dishes for her. He works diligently in a job he doesn’t necessarily enjoy in order to support her and his family. He is intently concerned with her physical well-being. He loves her despite her baggage — I like to think he loves her and her baggage. He’ll let her kiss him in the kitchen (sometimes, and only if none of the kids are around). He set the bar — he set it high. Only one man, my mister, could hurdle it. It’s no coincidence that my husband is a younger, taller version of him.

He’s my dad, the greatest thing to ever happen to me.

Ever so thankful for these parents of mine. I love them so much.
Ever so thankful for these parents of mine. I love them so much.
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One thought on “Witty, Wise, Punny, Patient

  1. Hannah, you nailed it with both of your parents: they are all that. The only problem I see with your post is that you sell yourself too short. You are so talented in your writing, and I envy that in you…beautiful tribute!

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