Dear husband, I feel like you’re neglected on this blog.  I don’t mean to. I’ve spoken so often about our struggles and what it has taken to restore our marriage, that I often forget to tell you just how dadgum lucky I am that you picked me in the first place. This is no coincidence, of course.  I don’t believe in coincidences.  I believe in appointment. I often marvel at the appointments that led us together.  Had you and your mother not moved to Birmingham – Had you not been Claire’s third grade boyfriend – Had I not decided to go to Troy – Had I not pledged Phi Mu and moved into the sorority house with Claire – Had I obeyed my mother and stayed in Troy that night I drove to Birmingham – Had you not found me on Myspace (ok, so that’s a little embarrassing to mention) a year later – Had you not taken that leap of faith to drive down to see me – Had we not committed to each other that very weekend – Where would we be? I like to think that at some point, we would have still crossed paths.  Somehow, God would

Read more