To Do: Marry the Perfect Man...Done.

This weekend Mr. Lipstick gave me a stunningly beautiful present. I hugged him tightly and kissed him passionately. Of course, I took some pictures to share with you (of the gift, not really of all the thanking). It begins like thisand then continues like thisand then finishes like this.

My gift may make a little more sense if you see it in its entirety and in context.

This retractable-removable-driveway-blocker is Mr. Lipstick's practical response to an afternoon of terror. We were outside talking to several neighbors, the children walked up the driveway to get some toys, and then to the backyard. I always have the driveway blocked off with a wheelbarrow, a trashcan, something...except for that day. We were standing...right there.

Just minutes after my children began playing in the backyard, a massive diesel truck pulled in our driveway. I frantically waved my arms for the man to stop, to slow down. He thought I was greeting him. I yelled at him, grabbed the kids, and ran in the house. I wept and screamed the sort of primal scream that emerges when the deepest pit of your soul has nearly witnessed your worst nightmare. I sat in a chair and cried for four hours. I didn't get better that night. I wasn't better the next day.

Mr. Lipstick took care of feeding and bathing JBB and Pretty Girl, answering their questions, dressing them and taking them to school. He took care of me too, and he built this wonderful gift for me.

A few weeks ago, I posted this verse and I wrote, "Sometimes things happen in life which terrify your soul. It is handy to know this verse. And believe it." One of my dearest bloggy buddies The Preppy Princess asked about the Scripture. This is the full story.

There are probably as many opinions about the intervention of God in human affairs as there are people on this earth. My feeling is immense, overwhelming gratitude. It is the sort of thankfulness that washes over you like a much too powerful wave in the ocean...the kind that takes your breath away, forces you to stop breathing for a moment, and focus on nothing but the surrounding power of the water and the wind, and of course, your own insignificance and lack of power.

When I pray, I try to thank God for protecting my children. Usually I can't form any words, but tears flow freely down my face, my chest swells with emotion, and I know that He knows.