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"The Church of North India as a United and Uniting together is committed to announce the Good News of the reign of God inaugurated through death and resurrection of Jesus Christ in proclamation and to demonstrate in actions to restore the integrity of God's creation through continuous... Read more

mother of the groom dresses with long sleeves

I'll tell you, some days I give my husband straight hell. I'm not proud of it but I'm being honest, as I always hope to be if I'm nothing else at all. We aren't perfect, no. We disagree. My bar is often far too high and I've no earthly reason why. Because my childhood one was pretty low. In comparison, our marriage more than rises to the occasion. He more than reaches that bar.
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Today we sat in a crowded mall pizzeria with six kids. Because school starts in one week and every single one needs new clothes. And so, on a nice warm summer Sunday, the day of rest, we did that which must be the exact opposite of restful and took all those kids clothes shopping.
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And this one image of the day has etched itself into my mind. My husband, the surfer/business owner, dark from a busy, super hot summer spent working outside, even (and ESPECIALLY) on Saturdays, leaning over AG, the littlest in her booster seat, pizza sauce splotched down the front of her pretty little dress. He's leaning there, wet napkin in hand, concentrating, diligently trying to get it off. With very little luck and with five other past nap-time children around his table needing food, drinks, pizzas cut into bite-sized pieces, trips to the bathroom. A ginormous pizza in the middle because that's what it takes now. mother of the groom dresses with long sleeves
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And for all that hell I give, my heart feels a flutter and an ache all at once. How simple his days might have been, if he hadn't chosen me. He carries not only my baggage, but the baggage of an entire family, provides for the needs of what could be a small class of children, half not even his by birth. But he does it. He wipes their pizza sauce and he picks their clothes so thoughtfully and he serves them up a home-cooked meal every single night...and then he takes them tubing and kneeboarding behind the boat after an already exhausting sort of day.
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He gave up what could have been a life just for him a long time ago. And never for one second does he look back and wonder. He never does. Always forward he goes. Loyal to the end of time, this one. Maybe that's just what all of us with the broken hearts need. A real kind of, true kind of, diligent-when-it's-not-pretty kind of love. When we didn't even know it. # kinship # fostercare