Been attending a men’s Bible study on Sunday mornings the past couple months. 

The group itself has been in existence for a few years now … studying all of Paul’s letters. 

I’m the new kid in class. 

Few weeks ago I experienced a wonderful lesson about love. 

Not from Paul writing to the Corinthians. 

From two dudes discussing home improvements. 

As with most in-person gatherings, sometimes the best content happens before the main event.

I grabbed a chair at the table just as a guy was talking about some house renovations he’s in the middle of.

He’s putting in a new porch by himself. 

Was hoping he could demo the old one … with a sledge. 

Learned over the weekend that he’ll need to call on a higher power. 

Definitely a jackhammer job. 

Guy next to him offered counsel … for when he has the new porch formed. 

“You should call Judy,” he said, meaning his wife. 

Then he said one of the loveliest things I’ve ever heard anyone say about their spouse. 

“Oh, she makes a good batch of concrete,” he said.

The way he said it reminded me of the way I used to talk about my mother’s lasagna. 

He even shook his head back and forth as he spoke the words … in genuine reverence for his wife’s gifts. 

They kept chatting, and a good minute or so went by before I could interrupt. 

“Greg … I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone speak as reverently about their spouse as you just did.” 

“Oh, the concrete?” he asked.

And then he spent the next minute … rejoicing in the truth. 

“Oh, she just has a feel for it,” he said. 

“She’ll be stirring, and she knows exactly when to give it a spray of water.”

Incidentally, I’m pretty sure this is exactly what Paul had in mind when he said love is patient.

“I mean, it’s perfect every time,” Greg said, recruiting both of his hands for emphasis, his voice pitching up on ‘every time.’

In genuine awe.

I don’t know why it moved me so much.

I have never in my life given an ounce of thought to eligibility for the Concrete Hall of Fame.  

And I know exactly one thing about Greg’s wife, whom I’ve not yet met. 

For that matter I’ve only spent a few Sunday mornings in Greg’s good company. 

But I feel I know enough.

Just for how love leapt from his heart and lived on his face when praising his wife. 

Anyone who has been married a long time and remains in genuine awe of his partner’s superpowers is a person who has much to teach the world about love.  

At least as much as Judy has to teach the guy who thought he could sledge his way to a new porch. 

I had so many questions. 

I found myself wondering, at what point in their relationship did he discover he married a concrete whisperer?

Was it love at first pour? 

Did they learn together … or did she teach him? 

And the big question: did they ever scrawl their initials anywhere? 

Something tells me she never let him.

The way Greg spoke, it’d be like painting a mustache on the Mona Lisa. 

All I know for certain is that Judy would have a lot to teach me.

About love and marriage, I mean. 

Concrete too, I suppose.  

I hope I get to meet her someday. 

Actually thought about asking Greg if she gives concrete classes. 

Maybe he could invite her to our Bible study sometime?

I can already imagine it … a hush falling over the room and me hanging on Greg’s every word for the gift of hearing how he would introduce her. 

I have no idea what she actually looks like. I only imagine her regal as she stands before the class, hose in hand, and begins … 

“And now I will show you the most excellent way ….”