There’s this one thing I still expect my husband to fix. Years ago, as the practical outcome of an epic fight, I wrote my husband a not-so-epic poem. In it, I released him from the pressure to be God, to read my thoughts, to make perfectly nuanced romantic gestures on time, to protect my inner…
We writers are pretty much always on an obsessive search-and-destroy mission for unnecessary words in our work (like “pretty much”). We look for typos, for passive language, for grammatical errors that make us look silly. And we look for echoes, pet words that crop up everywhere because, well, they are our pet words. Heaven forbid…
Back in college I had a crush on this guy that I couldn’t shake (the crush, not the guy). I sought the advice of an older woman, who was probably all of twenty-two, and she referred me to a verse I have loved ever since: “It is my prayer for you that your love may…
My husband’s social faux pas are few and faint, as in hardly noticeable. Which makes the one he committed last week rather noteworthy. We met at a local coffee shop with a couple at their request to discuss their personality differences. They are dating (only d-a-t-i-n-g). The young woman is a friend of ours, and…
My husband has never raised his voice at me. Well, there was this one time. {Side note: if you “never” raise your voice, that one time you do will be very effective.} Let me give some context first. Bill was a busy pastor in a small town. We lived in a rambly old house with…
