It must be a strange experience to have an injury that your family does not know about. We keep writing you letters as if nothing has happened.
I find myself loving what we make: things that mean something to me. Or sometimes, distressed letters from Walmart. Yeah, that works.
I just purged my house, nesting, frenetically sorting through every closet, every drawer, to remove all that we don’t need. And now I am buying more.
I never considered myself a fearful person, but with growing responsibility has come growing anxiety. Surely if I worry enough, it will help somehow…
I wrote this piece many weeks ago, about living as a foster parent and a woman. Now at last I am young enough to share it.
How do you carve out time to invest in your marriage during busy seasons? What habits do you incorporate into your life to build love? Can you share simple ways to add some special?