Victorious Surrender

    I overslept! Oh crap, I overslept because of the rain! I could hear the horses hooves as they ran past my window, back and forth, communicating in their own way that we were late for breakfast and they were starving! I sat up in bed and just took in the sweet sound of raindrops and horses hooves beating the ground at the same time. Two of my favorite sounds and it was like music to my ears. 

   I went to wake the girls, just to find them nestled in their blankets, eyes open and mouths curved into satisfied smiles as they listened to the very sounds I just marveled in. My presence meant it was time though and they crawled out of bed and threw their jackets on. After a quick trip to the loo, they slid on their boots and joined me outside.  

   As I slid my arms, one by one into my slicker and snapped it shut for only the second time of the season, I realized just how much I love the rain even more when I can stay relatively dry while out in it.  Instantly, my thoughts went to my husband. “I hope he remembered his rain gear.” I remember thinking to myself, knowing that even if he didn’t, he would continue working hard in the elements. He is an amazing provider and works every day to keep us alive and well. My heart was so full, I couldn’t have put it in words even if someone had asked me.

  Gear on, we set out to feed the animals, each being eager for their breakfast.  We said our apologies for being late and heard forgiveness with each chomp on their food. We were even welcomed by hugs from the dog and swirls around our legs by the cats.  The ducks stood back in the far corner, holding their ground, letting out an angry quack or two but their resilience broke as soon as their feed hit the ground and their gate was opened for them to set out on their wild adventures for the day.  The chickens pecked at the ground as if they were already wasting away due to the late feeding. As I tossed handfuls of feed at their feet, they began chattering and gobbling up their food like a bunch of hens in a henhouse. 

   Heading back to the barn, I saw my third child, Jade, coiling up the hose as the bunnies she just fed, nibbled on their goodies. When I stopped and inquired as to her busyness at the hoses, she simply stated she was getting them ready for winter freezes so we don’t have to worry about it once it is upon us. It stopped my heart. All these years of communicating the need for logical thinking in this life and the importance of thinking ahead had finally settled in yet again.  “She is growing so fast.” I thought to myself and pride filled my heart.  It is the little moments like this that God gives me just a peek of my fruits being harvested. I am reminded that without Him, my fruits may not even be fruit, but weeds sucking the life out of everything around it. I am so grateful for His grace and all the times He has forgiven me for not hearing his communicating the need for logical thinking and the importance of thinking ahead.  I smile at my beautiful daughter and praise her for her wisdom. Her smile widens to match mine.

   In the barn, I find Faith, my youngest, dropping hay from the hay pile so she can give the horses their second flake for the morning and realize that even just a year ago, she would have asked for help to do this task. Instead, she just worked joyfully, playfully visiting with the kitten at the top of the pile. The thought that she didn’t need me, not because she was able to do it easily, but because the efforts to do the job herself didn’t seem like such a burden. Above that, she was smiling and finding joy in her morning. I felt God was again showing me the importance of having joy even in the smallest things. It really is what allows us to love our lives, no matter our lives.  

   I remember working at a bakery when I was younger and everyone I worked with hated their jobs but I loved working there. I loved working with my hands and I loved greeting the early risers as they filed in for their pastry breakfast. It’s not for everyone, but it was a beautiful place for me.  Just like here and now, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be sometimes.  Yes, sure, the animals are so beautiful and who doesn’t love petting kittens every morning, but this is a job nonetheless. There are hooves to clean, tails to untangle, poop to scoop, medicine to administer, steps in manure, hay in your bra… hair… pants… boots… everywhere!  When you are in the middle of dinner and your dog decides to bring you a chicken she accidentally killed by playing with or your horse looks at you through your window and you see the fence down behind him, you stop eating, get your boots on, and get out there to deal with the issue at hand. When you are just getting in the shower and you hear a shout from the barn, “Come quick!” you throw on the necessary clothing and slip on boots with no socks and haul butt! It’s a glorified life style and some who try it, back away slowly from the reality of it.  I have lived both lives. One fit, one didn’t.  


   I struggled living in town. In just 2 years, a lot happened. I dealt with depression for the first time in my life.  I felt like the walls were closing in on me all the time. It was weird. I went from being a happy morning person to not wanting to get out of bed. In hopes of making a purpose for myself, I filled my days with tasks and volunteer positions and pursued a career in sales as well as homeschooling my kids still.  My husband went to work out of state and we accepted two foreign exchange students into our home.  I was no longer thinking logically and I surely wasn’t finding any joy in my days.  I was fighting with my kids and welcoming the fact that my husband could not see me this way. I was a mess.

   I had begun to have medical issues. I was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes, I was having serious kidney issues which were always followed by passing stone after stone, and was having what I later learned were panic attacks. Being sick was a very foreign thing for me.  VERY.  AND… I was failing… at everything.  My balance had been shifted and I no longer had any at all. I had lost my way.  Thanks to some amazing people in my life, this was brought to the surface.

   Dropping to my knees in the middle of my living room, I surrendered my life again. I prayed something like, “I have failed, God. I have failed because I am trying to go my own way. I am trying to fill my anxieties with busyness so they will be hidden. Lord, I have begged for your help but I have not waited for your answer. I  don’t even know what is right for my own life. I don’t even know who I am right now. Whisper your wishes in my heart, Lord. Tell me what to do, even if it means doing nothing at all.”  I gave up everything. I stopped doing everything. God cleansed me. He led me to places I never even knew existed. I held positions but was not doing anything in them. He literally halted my life.  Then, He helped me see.  I sent out a plea to every committed position I was in, that I was overwhelmed, I was physically deteriorating because of it and that I was needing to make some changes.  

This is where it gets interesting…  

   I received VERY different responses to this plea.  They were two very different extremes.  It was split in the middle. There were no gray areas. Over half of them responded angry or put out. I was a bail out to them. I didn’t understand what position I was putting them in. I was ungrateful for the things they had done for me (remembering that these being things that benefited them in some way. Business helps, things they could share to show the nature of their character, etc.).  I would say probably 90% of them turned on me, discarded me and even spewed hatred toward me for saving my own life.  (I’m not kidding. That is probably a generous guess) I was shocked. I look back now and see I shouldn’t have been, but I was.  It was the very clarification I needed.  

   Let me tell you about the 10% that responded differently though. This is really all that God wanted me to focus on at that time.  This group of people had a completely different reaction!  I began hearing of others who had gone through this exact same thing and had come to this exact same fork in the road of their lives. I also began hearing people say things like, “Angie, we are so happy for you. We have been praying for you to slow down.” and “Angie, we have been so worried about you. You just look so tired.”  They devised plans to hold me accountable and refused to ask me to volunteer for anything.  They encouraged me to make a plan to do nothing that God wasn’t specifically telling me to do.  I was no longer allowed to volunteer for anything that someone else could do even if it was differently than how I would do it. I was no longer allowed to volunteer without praying about it and waiting for God to answer me clearly.  I was reminded that God had given me 4 beautiful children that were entrusted to me and a husband who worked so hard so I could be home with them.  This 10% cared more about me than the fact that they were going to have to find another volunteer, leader, and/or planner.  I received encouraging words, phone calls and visits to make sure I was staying on track and to let me know I was loved.  A response one NEVER forgets.

   Next up, I realized I was not good at choosing friends.  I tended to choose friends that required extra grace all the time. I have always been drawn to people who needed lots of patience for some reason. I was in no place to help anyone else and really, I was a dry well because I was never getting anything back.  Well, God weeded my friendship garden and I realized, the only real friends I had just happened to be in that 10% and the rest were taken away from me. As I got stronger, they started leaving, one by one. It made me even stronger, and I began to feel a peace I hadn’t felt in years. 

   Then, the owners of our home lost it, sold it, and we were in need to relocate. My husband and son were in North Dakota working, my oldest daughter was not speaking to me and my two youngest daughters were all I had.  We packed and got rid of stuff and packed some more. One evening I felt really terrible and knew my kidney was the culprit. I called my daughter, who not speaking to me, was still there within minutes to take me to the emergency room.  It was kidney stones and a kidney infection. I was sent home medicated and unable to even walk up our stairs, let alone pack. As time got closer, and we still couldn’t find a place to live, I should have been panicking but oddly I wasn’t.  1 week before we were due to be out, my illness which I had pretty much kept from others so they wouldn’t feel obligated to help me, (Gotta love stinky pride, right?) I started to get a little freaked out.  I was nowhere near packed and really was so tired that I almost didn’t even care anymore.

   I had been calling around to realty places and asking for anyone who met our needs on a short notice but hadn’t turned up anything so I was so grateful when our neighbors came and asked if we would be willing to stay at their place for 2 weeks after we were all moved. GOD. I got a call from a realtor that informed me she didn’t know what property I was talking about in my message but she had something that hadn’t even gone on the market yet and she thought we would be interested. Wrong number. GOD. My church called and said that my husband notified them that even though I wasn’t asking for help that I needed it and they would be sending people to help me move. GOD. While moving, I was contacted by a new friend with a horse trailer that they would like to loan their trailer to us for moving. GOD. Friends flooded my home to help me move almost everything into our storage unit. GOD. One gal from church whom I barely knew never left me. She came day after day to help me, brought us lunch and worked side by side with me until the last night I had to be out. We celebrated by eating a burger in my car at almost midnight. The most a friend had ever done for me without expecting anything in return. GOD. He weeded and then planted beautiful kindness into my life. I don’t think that it was any coincidence that the home God gave us is in the country, just 5 minutes down the road from hers. GOD.  My husband came home unemployed due to his refusing to leave me to move twice without him. I was so relieved. GOD. The new house provided a shop and a friend called and offered (We hadn’t even pursued loan options yet) a personal, interest free loan so he could go out on his own. GOD.  We moved out to our new home which costs way more than what we were seeking and yet, we have always made rent. GOD. 

   I look into my daughters eyes, and remember all this and I thank God for all that He has done for us. We have lived here for just over a year and in our 17 years of marriage, we have finally settled.  We are satisfied because He guides us and we are listening.  We probably won’t live here forever. It really isn’t feasible and we feel Him telling us that this is a step in a plan, but we are so grateful to be here. Here being physically and spiritually. 

   I am reminded of other blessings that have come from letting God be in control of our lives. This Summer, my son re-dedicated his life to the Lord and has made vast changes in his life. He gave it all to God. He is no longer a boy, but a man in my eyes. My daughter not only is in constant contact with us but is a beautiful friend in addition to being our daughter. She took the hard road and it is such a blessing to see her choosing to return to God one step at a time.

   When I came in from feeding, I saw my disheveled house.  I saw muddy footprints from Jade forgetting to take her boots of at first. I saw the decks of cards on the table from our family time when my daughter was visiting the day before.  It felt wonderful to know that while I don’t necessarily love cleaning, that I have time to do it and I really wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.  I am grateful for a small house that draws us all close together and is a perfect trade off for my husband being able to work out of the elements from time to time in a shop.  I am so blessed that while we all have to work hard, we are working hard right where God wants us. I am SO grateful to not be living in town. Not because town is bad, but because it is just not where I belong right now.

   I now have peace that reaches all the way down into my soul. The only kind that truly satisfies us. The peace of Christ being the ruler of our heart.  The peace that comes from not having all the answers ourselves but knowing Who does. There aren’t many things that make me afraid anymore, but when I am afraid, I know that I am not listening…


   Thank you God, for always loving me. Thank you for seeking me when I refuse to answer. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for giving me peace that allows me to face the horrors of this world and know that You and only You have the victory. Thank you for allowing me to write so I can share the before’s and after’s of this life You have given me and saved me from. Thank you for all the people who will read this today and be brave enough to surrender their lives to You.  Thank you for the support I receive from them. Thank you for my family, my friends, and the HOPE You have given me through your grace and word.  In the name of Your Holy Son, Jesus Christ, Amen.

“…and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 4:7


That’s just perfect!

Every time I think of a specific friend, (We’ll call her Kara) I think of her story of longing.   I remember her telling me that her life had ‘gotten away’ from her and that she was so sad, depressed even, that her dreams of being a passionate, energetic wife and mother were over.  Instead, she had married a headstrong, opinionated, and quite honestly, obnoxious husband who didn’t have time or the desire for ‘running off into the sunset’ or ‘living happily ever after’.  “I just can’t believe I threw my life away.” she shared with me, her hands over her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks.  I felt so helpless.  Not just because I couldn’t fix her problem but because, secretly, I was struggling with the same thing!

At that point in my life, I was a child raising children.  My blessings were constantly clouded with what ‘should have been’ and what ‘could have been’.  I always wanted to be a mom, but my idea of motherhood was first words, stumbling steps, library trips, baking little cookies and playing catch in our big beautiful yard! Instead, I was married to a meth addict, living in a trailer park, borrowing money for cigarettes and trying to convince the power company to leave the power on just one more day.  Wow! you may say?  Yep, wow.  What an extreme right?  It’s true.

Believe it or not… it’s not how I started out.  I started out powerful and in charge of my life as a parent.  Having barely escaped an abusive relationship, I knew exactly where I needed to go and Who I needed to follow.  I was determined my children would know God, not only by the words I spoke but through the choices I would make, and my actions as a follower of Christ.  I just had one problem… I wasn’t in control.  When things were going good, I thought it was because I was doing everything right, and therefore the world was right around me. Did I mention that I was young in every sense of the word?

Well, I married the ‘right’ guy… with the ‘right’ job… from the ‘right’ family… right Right RIGHT???  wrong Wrong WRONG!!! There is no right anything when it comes to the big picture of choosing a family. There is no perfect man/woman, perfect occupation, perfect family!  No matter what you say whether it is in pride or in denial, there is no human PERFECTION… NONE.  That doesn’t mean that it can’t be good, or even amazing… but never perfect.  There can, however, be a perfect plan. 

Humor me for a moment and read this…

PERFECT means being entirely without fault or defect.

Do me a favor… read that again and again.  Now, you tell me, honestly… does that describe you?  Are you perfect? Does that describe your spouse, your parent, your child, your friend?  While I’m sure you have several cute and adorable little quotes and sayings from your wonder years popping the veins in your head right now, the truth is, when you really look at the definition of that word, we are NOT it!  So much for ‘practice makes perfect!’! It’s okay if you are a little pissed off right now.  Truly, it is. We’ve all been deceived into thinking that there is a perfect mate or perfect friend or perfect parent, but the truth is that there is no such thing. Sometimes we even say, “Nobody’s perfect!”  but inside we are really saying, “But I’m pretty dang close!”

There is only One that is Perfect.  As a matter of fact, He is the only One that can honestly be called The Perfect One. He has no faults… He has no defects… He is always right… He is Perfection.

2 Corinthians 12:9
And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”

This passage does not say, My grace is sufficient in your perfection.  It doesn’t even say that He is expecting perfection.  Instead, He is boldly stating that His grace is sufficient for us and that through our weakness… did you catch that? In our weakness, His strength is made perfect.  Take just a moment to let that sink in.

Wait!  Here is something that will help you understand this concept further.  GRACE = favor.  It’s a gift, something not earned, but freely given. Perfect, isn’t it?

He is perfect… we are not.  He is good at it… we never will be.  He is accountable to it… we don’t have to be.  He is not expecting it from us… we meet His expectations.  See, how much easier it is to understand when you take the pressure of it away?

2 Corinthians 11:3
But I fear, lest somehow, as the serpent deceived Eve by his craftiness, so your minds may be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ.

God is not so difficult to understand as the world would have us believe.  The reason it all seems so difficult to understand is because it IS simple.  It’s not God that is confusing.  It is the conception of a loving God in a fallen world full of bad ideals, unrealistic expectations and man-made goodies that tear us away from personal relationships. It’s the idea that God only wants us unsoiled and perfect so He can stand to be in our presence. But the truth is… that is such a LIE! God wants us to be with Him in our shiniest moments AND our darkest.  He doesn’t expect us to come to Him fixed and perfect.  He knows we come to Him broken.  That is EXACTLY why He gave us our Savior, Jesus Christ.  We come to Him wanting, searching, grasping, clinging and He opens His arms wide and scoops us up into His warm comforting embrace.  He loves us. We are His and He loves us, flaws and defects and all. It really is THAT simple.  Perfect, actually.

The enemy uses our own minds to deceive us into believing we are a constant failure.  That carries over into deceiving us into believing that those in our lives are also a constant failure when they don’t measure up to our expectations.  It is only when we see ourselves as the imperfect men and women that we are in need of a Savior that we can see our loved ones as no more or less than us.  We all sin.  We all disappoint.  We all make mistakes.  We all miss the mark.

What does this have to do with our friend, Kara, you might ask?  What about my life closely resembling a Hollywood movie?… and not the good kind!  Well, here goes…

Kara, went on to be miserable and then prideful to the point of her own destruction.  She buried herself in romance novels and duties to hide her disappointments.  She became determined to raise ‘perfect’ children and from the outside have the ‘perfect’ life. She tried to fill her emptiness with all these impressive facades that made it even more difficult to reach out to those around her for help and understanding.  This same woman who grieved the ‘loss’ of her life, related to other wives but refused to admit it, even to herself. She sunk lower and lower into depression until she found herself drowning in her darkness.  She made an attempt to get out once. She reached out for help and we came in the middle of the night to rescue her from her increasingly abusive husband.  Yes, that’s right.  Me, my meth stricken husband, a terrified woman who didn’t even have enough freedom to get her driving license, and her four confused and equally terrified children planned an escape in the middle of the night while her husband was on a ride along with the local police department.

Our hearts were racing as the icy air from the clear winter night swirled around us, biting at our skin.  We jumped back into the vehicles and fled the place that this spiritually beaten woman called home.  When I asked her if she was scared, she said, “Yes, but only that this feeling will go away and I will give in when he comes to get me.”  My heart stopped. Oh no… Here I am again. I knew exactly what feeling she was talking about. It was that feeling that said, one more breath in this life and your breathing will cease.  Seeing your life flash before your eyes, unfinished.  Needing to get out, but not knowing how, and it still being worth it to try. Fear, nausea, panic, loneliness, pain, adrenaline, determination, weakness and foreign strength all at once.  ALL…  AT… ONCE.  I remember thinking, “Oh my God.”  and for the first time, I was really meaning, “OH MY GOD!  Dear God please save me.”

The next morning, Kara went back to her husband who spent hours convincing her on my couch that he loved her and he would not hurt her again.  He lied.

I knew he would lie.  Just like I knew my husband would lie.  It is what we do when we don’t want to face our problems.  We convince ourselves ‘we can fix this’. I also knew I had been lying to my husband and to myself.  I didn’t love him anymore.  I didn’t love me anymore. I didn’t love anything anymore.  I didn’t even love God anymore.  I was a liar. I lied when I said I could handle it.  I lied when I said I was giving God control over my life.  I lied when I said I was providing a safe place for my children.  I lied when I said I would be okay.  I lied.

It didn’t take long for me to see my life for what it was.  Mine.  My own. Mine! Dammit!  When did I claim my life as my own?  When did I allow my heart to deceive me? When did I long for all that was wrong for me?  When did I get trapped in seeking perfection, deceived that there even is such thing? When did I think that my husband would surface in his addiction if I was good enough?  When did I stop expecting the enemy to attack?  When did I make the decision to be his victim over and over and over again?  I still don’t know when because it was obviously a slow burn.  Through porthole of greed and pride, the enemy sunk his slimy teeth into my self-image and expectations.  He dripped his venom in my heart slowly, creating anger and self-righteousness to the extreme.  I had become my own perfect enemy.

Within days of realizing of the truth of my situation, God went to work…  Previously that year (before the incident above), in my longing for perfect acceptance, I had turned to another man, via an internet relationship.  It wasn’t sexual, actually.  We talked of things that didn’t matter.  Movies, places to travel to, dream jobs and all those happy topics.  Only a couple of times did we approach the subject on why I was planning on leaving my husband and just as often did we touch on why he left his wife.  We were both still married, both seeking comfort outside of our marriages and neither of us involving God in any of it.  I talked to his mom and sought advice from a woman who just wanted to see her son happy. Yes, really.  I was ignorant. I thought happiness could be a result of a plan I could create. I would make all the right decisions and all the right moves this time.  It would be perfect!

Yeah, well, not exactly…

God started to make it clear that I had faults and that although my sin was not going to create physical memories that haunted me, I would be haunted by my actions all the same.  When I told my husband of my plan to leave his unworthy self and make a new life for my worthy self, he called his mom in despair.  She called me and cried.  It was the first time I had ever heard her cry.  It broke me…  She begged me to not take her babies away and swore she would support my decision to leave her son, but please just don’t take the kids so far away.  Guilt in the fact that I had not even considered what this action would do to the rest of my family including my kids contact with their grandparents, was a huge flag for me.  I never wanted pain for my kids. I knew I was making the wrong decision but how could I go back now?  It was out and everyone knew my secret! I promised it anyway.  I promised not to leave.

1 John 1:8
If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.

The reason I couldn’t seek God for help openly, was because I really felt that for Him to help me, He had to change those around me.  As Kara left my house that day, she mouthed the words through her car window, “I’m so sorry.”  I couldn’t understand.  Why was she going back?  Why was she allowing this life to continue? Yes, those were questions in my mind but my confusion was not over those.  I knew the answers for those questions.  What I couldn’t understand was why was she apologizing to me? Why on earth was she sorry for me?  She was the one in agony and agreeing to go back to a life of misery and loneliness. I turned and walked into my house and it seemed so filthy.  The walls were dirty, and there were dishes in the sink.  There were stacks of papers on my desk and the carpet needed vacuumed. There was laundry overflowing over huge laundry baskets and the cushions were pulled out our recliner.  I realized in that moment that my house was a perfect picture of how numb I had become to my own sin.  I had made a habit out of looking at my sin as out of my hands.  Victimization. Kara wasn’t the only one agreeing to go back to a life of misery and loneliness.  I too was making that decision.

My husband forgave my infidelity and I felt God was telling me that through infidelity, my marriage would be healed.  Seriously, don’t laugh or send me hate mail.  I’m not saying God wished for it, but that I was to wait until infidelity was evident before I was permitted to leave my marriage.  I knew I wasn’t going back there (infidelity) but I knew I wanted out still.  Brace yourself… this is where it gets human.  I prayed.  I prayed for my husband to commit adultery, not realizing he already had at this point, so that I could be free of my marriage.  I’m just being honest here… if this is too much, please feel free to judge me. You won’t be the first or the last. 🙂  …

… As time went by and he was staying gone for more days at a time, I knew it was getting close.  I had relief due to the lack of arguing but fear because of the people showing up to look for my husband.  I was finding more and more time to read my bible and oddly was for the first time without people telling me, understanding it.  There was a peace that had begun to fill my previously tortured sleeping hours.  I was sleeping over half of the time that my kids were sleeping and I found time to play with them again.  Schooling was a sought after structure rather than a resented one and I physically felt God healing me.

I was pulling into our park when my husband’s friend, excited to be a part of the drama, stopped me and handed me his phone.  The woman on the other line, claimed to have shared my husbands affections and poured out the apologies as if her life depended on it.  Apparently it had happened while I was watching her children for several weeks so she wouldn’t lose them to the state. Apparently, my response was not as expected, and I saw the disappointment on the drama seekers face when I said thank you and went home. What was supposed to be devastating was like a breath of fresh air.  Discovering the time that it happened was surprising for me as it was just before my online relationship became personal but it was just more of a confirmation for me that I was free of my marriage.  I called my husband and he denied it.  Predictable. I got another call from another woman. Not so predictable. I started to feel deception instead of confirmation… I prayed against it.  I put all of my husbands belongings on the porch, shut the door and opened a window into my new life.

To make a super long story short… I had NO CLUE that my new life would include my husband!!! That’s right, during our separation, God flooded me with His love from every direction. Unbeknownst to me, God was also flooding my husband with His love from every direction as well.  My husband will have to tell you about his journey  on another day, but as for me and my journey, I was asked to stop lying to myself, stop expecting people to be superhuman, stop trying to have all the answers and trust God.  When I first realized God was asking me to welcome my husband back into my heart, I literally threw my bible across the room!  Needless to say, I was not excited at first.

God healed me… God healed my husband… God healed our marriage.  God, made his strength perfect in our weakness.  It’s been years since He first healed us, knowing what we couldn’t.  I don’t wake up every morning feeling like I’m on my honeymoon… trust me, it’s not perfect. I still wake up with last nights laundry on the floor, bills on the table and older at every glance in the mirror, but I wake up every morning knowing that God is perfect and through Him, I will always be loved.  I don’t need to look for it elsewhere, but I am so grateful that God has given it to me anyway. My husband is my hero. He loves God and is a wonderful husband and father. Thanks to God, I have both love from my husband and my King. I may not live the perfect life, but I am perfectly loved.

Sweetly Broken

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