It took me about six months and many outbursts to settle into really trusting my husband. Trusting that he loved me. Trusting he wouldn’t leave me. Trusting he didn’t regret marrying me. Trusting that he finds my physical beauty as stimulating as my spirituality and love for deep, theological discussions. My fear had always been that I really wasn’t really worthy of the unconditional love of another human and when that fear was inadvertently touched because of my skewed lens,

I let out a sigh, close the book and say without much thought, “Thank you for loving me…” At first I felt defeated and frustrated. I had woken up early and expectant but this is not the morning I envisioned as I brewed the coffee. It’s day four of Advent and I was excited to sit down with my daily reading and dig deep into hope and loss and be reminded of God’s goodness. Instead I finally finished the two pages after almost an hour. I had to reread and read again several para