My husband, Jerry, thinks that if there is a problem, it can be dwalt with, no matter how big (or how major) it happens to be.

As an example, Jerry's mother, Maude, came to live with us for a time after she'd become disabled due to a series of strokes.  She was in the hospital for over two months until they could get her going again (she still cannot walk, but she's at least talking again).  How he dealt with her situation was this:  he moved her in with us, built a ramp (for her wheelchair), and put her room on the ground floor so she wouldn't have to worry about stairs.

Another time, a neighbor's cat got stuck up the tree.  Here goes my husband, up the tree, to rescue said kitty (not thinking of the danger he was putting himself in), and comes down with the kitty in his arms -- but not before the kitty scratched him up a good one.  He was bleeding from numerous scratch and bite marks on his arms, but he wore a huge smile on his face that told me one thing:  that the rescue mission was a howling success.

Still a third time our oldest daughter's bike got stolen.  Not a problem to Jerry.  He found a used one at a garage sale that was in pretty good shape, fixed it up to where it was rideable again, and presented it to Kim for her tenth birthday.  It looked like a brand new bike; he never did tell her he'd gotten it at a garage sale:  she would have disowned her father right on the spot.

Another example happened when Jeremiah, our eight-year-old, had a baseball game.  His coach got sick and the team needed a coach.  He happily volunteered.  The team lost, but the kids (and him) all still had a good time.

I get so annoyed with Jerry at times:  it doesn't matter what the situation is:  he is ready to meet up with it head on, and he usually can find a workable solution to it, even when the rest of us are pulling our hair out trying to deal with the problems that creep up.  I wish I had his happy-go-lucky, "can-do" spirit; if I could be halfway as calm as Jerry is, then the world would be a lot better off!

I remember last year when a tornado hit our house.  Jerry got us all down into the basement, where we held hands and prayed as the house threatened to blow apart around us and the power died before the walls went.  It was the worst moment of our lives; I was sure we were all going to be killed by the tornado winds.  All Jerry did was put his faith and trust in the Lord, and he kept us all calm (though it was not easy by any means of the imagination!).

He also took care of the insurance and getting our house repaired as quickly as possible.  We only stayed at the shelter a week before we could move back in.  Yes, that's my husband:  Mr. Calm, Mr. Fix-it!

Now why can't I be like him??