My hands moulded themselves around his shoulders and squeezed the muscles, massaging them gently. I used the palms of my hands to calm his travel-tired arms and legs.
He fell asleep and I cried.
For nine months, I have prayed and yearned to be able to massage my husband when he’s tired and sore and for nine months my body has laughed scornfully at the thought.
It’s been a pipe dream, a “one day but not this day” hope that I’ve clung to.
Praise God that all those baby steps healthwise finally got me here. I’m still in the middle of a very long journey but tonight I luxuriate in the joy of being able to do something for my husband. 🙂