Matt's shirt

Just recently I was reminded of one of the times Matt and I went on a date. Back when we went on dates, of course. Back before children. Back before we were even married now that I think about it. It was one of those long all-day dates. We were headed to Fort Wayne to spend the day at the zoo, have lunch at a bistro, stroll around downtown and go out for a nice relaxing dinner. I was so excited.


As we traveled down the highway to start this wonderful adventure, Mat pulled the car over to the side of the road. I had not noticed but apparently there was a older woman parked in the median. As Matt walked over to her, I sat there planning our day and what fun we would have sight seeing together and the adventure that was ahead of us. Matt seemed to be taking a little longer than I had anticipated but I wasn’t too worried. How much harm could an old lady do? Finally he got back into our car. He smelled like wet dog and said nothing. So I sat there quietly and tried to figure out how we could get rid of the odor before we got to the zoo.

The next thing I knew he was pulling into a stranger’s driveway. Or maybe he knew the person who lived here and he could ask to borrow some clothes. As he exited the car he reassured me he would be back in a couple of minutes. I found this somewhat strange but was thankful for the fresh air and the opportunity for his now soiled shirt to get aired out as well.

As it turned out, that “couple of minutes” became an hour. I sat there wondering what he was doing. Why he didn’t tell me this was part of the plan for the day? Whose house was this and what in the world was taking him so long? Finally, Matt came around the corner of the house. He was now covered in dirt not only on his shirt but also his pants and shoes. But the thing that had changed the most were his eyes. His once blue shiny eyes were now blood shot and tearful.

As we sat in the car looking at each other he explained to me that he just helped a complete stranger bury her dog that had got run over on the highway. He didn’t do it for glory or honor. He didn’t do it to get praises from a committee of on-lookers. He simply did what God told him to do.

Many of you know that my husband understands his Bible history and stores. And he does. But I know that he is also a man after God’s own heart. No, he’s not perfect. None of us are but that’s my husband with whom I am well pleased…even if he has on a dirty, stinky shirt.