The other day, Gregg instant messaged me from his work and I told him I was making him some Cinnamon Chip Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, and asked him if there was anything else he wanted me to send him. He asked for waffles.
Waffles?
Yes, waffles.
Pin ItLoving a Life of Biblical Womanhood
For more than a week, the same message kept coming to me. It arrived by four very different avenues and has echoed in my prayer life and in my heart. It is the familiar passage in the 21st chapter of the Gospel of John, verses 15 through 18, in which the resurrected Savior asks Simon Peter three times, paraphrasing, “Do you love Me?” Each time, Peter answers, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.”
This week, I heard Jesus asking me over and over, “Gregg, do you love me?”
This is part five in a series about surviving separation from your spouse. When Gregg and I first met, it was 357 miles from his driveway to mine. Right before we were married, his National Guard unit was activated and he moved from Anniston, AL, to Birmingham, AL, to prepare for deployment. This made the distance right around 330 miles.
He’d said this to me for years – in fact, in an email I received from him a week after I met him, he extolled how much he loved the fact that I put an effort into looking nice. But this time, reading it, I took it as an accusation – as in, “I would appreciate it if you would put an effort into your appearance, but you don’t because you’re fat, ugly, frumpy, limp.”
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