When Chris and I “went public” with our marital struggles, we discovered that people reacted to the truth of our brokenness in very different ways. Some withdrew, afraid that our brokenness was somehow akin to the Ebola virus and sure to be contagious. Others withdrew simply because they had no idea how to help, and the silence and pain was awkward. And yet others withdrew, because they had not left any space in their life for people who were hurting. Some came close, close enough to judge, condemn, and preach. Others came close to join the train-wreck party, and rejoiced in knowing that they were not alone. Then there were Corrie and Sarah.
I love food. All food. Not just the Double-Doubles and the pizookies of the world, but also the roasted Brussels sprouts and the spinach salads with berries and almonds of the world. I heart food. So understandably, diet is a four-letter word that makes me cringe. It brings out all of the nasty in me. I suddenly turn into a mean girl with raging insecurities and carb-withdrawal headaches. But when the number on the scale crept past the do or die mark, I had no other choice than to go on a diet. Read More
This weekend was hard. I found out that the little boy that played kick-the-can and hide-and-go-seek, rode his bike up and down the street, and explored the ins and outs of Elephant Rock with me when we were children passed away. The face in my memory with a big smile and huge dimples is not like the face labeled “fugitive” that is being flashed all over the media. The only label I’ve attached to the boy from my childhood is friend, and that’s the label I’ll choose to keep associated with him. Read More
My boys have mastered the art of fort building. Furniture, blankets, sheets, and shelves are all carefully arranged to make an elaborate maze of hideouts and hidden passageways that make up a little boy’s dream play space. It’s not unusual for us to find a new fort in the playroom every weekend, and we encourage our boys to be creative. But as we were cleaning up their latest architectural feat, I found something new in their fort.
Should I stay or should I go? I think everyone asks themselves this question at some point in their marriage. Should I stay married to someone that won’t quit/neglects me/cheated on me/drove us to bankruptcy/doesn’t pursue me/doesn’t care/doesn’t feel/won’t change? Or should I go? I asked myself this question every day for the first six years of our marriage before I finally decided to stay married. Read More