Treasured time with my husband.
Houseful of children—now grown.
Amazing grace—Jesus love.
Knowledge and wisdom.
Family— immediate, extended, church, work, friends.
Unconditional love from my dogs.
So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him,rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.
And I thankful for Julie’s editorial eye :~)
Writing to encourage and entertain~
When my husband and I first started dating, I spent hours dolling myself up in the mirror. I wanted my hair to look just right, my lipstick the perfect shade, whatever it took to see his eyes light up and hear him say, “You’re beautiful.”
Now, sixteen years later, my hair’s streaked with gray, laugh lines fan from my eyes, and it’s harder to find clothing to compliment my not so complimenting figure, and I’m thankful for ‘till death do we part. I’m thankful that even when I’m at my worst, lying on the couch with hair frizzed out and nose swollen red with the flu, my husband still looks at me with fire in his eyes and says, “You’re beautiful.”
Because over the years, we’ve learned that beauty extends far beyond the exterior, heightened by a love that penetrates so deep, no amount of wrinkles, bald heads, pot-bellies, or gray hair, can distinguish the passion we have for one another.
But most importantly, I’m thankful for my Bridegroom who holds my husband and I together and shows us, through His death on the cross, what it truly means to love with passion.
Jennifer Slattery is a freelance writer and publicist living in the Midwest with her Romeo of sixteen years and their fourteen year old daughter. She writes for Christ to the World Ministries, Samie Sisters, the Internet Café Devotions, and the Christian Pulse and is the marketing manager for the literary website, Clash of the Titles. Her writing has received numerous commendations and appeared in numerous publications. You can find out more about her and her writing by visiting her devotional blog, Jennifer Slattery Lives Out Loud.
It was two years ago July when I wrote a guest post for the site, Adding Zest to your Nest. This is a Christian site that encourages women in married se*uality. The contents might be uncomfortable for some and I absolutely understand that. What I won’t do is say it is wrong. I grew up with a generation that didn’t talk about anything. The good, the bad, the temptations, problems, nothing. And I refuse to live that way.
I’ve had infertility, a miscarriage, baby blues, hormonal issues, hysterectomy at 38, near loss of child, special need situations with that child, and so on. I don’t air dirt to air dirt, but I share my experiences in hopes one person, if even one person could be encouraged, it’s worth my “going there.”
That said, my guest post is up for repost today at Adding Zest. People still give me odd looks and many online still leave comments asking if the man in the picture is my husband. The answer is a big no! I would never, ever put my husband on a post like that. I did have his permission to write that post, though.
So if you are a married person wishing to receive Biblical encouragement in the physical intimacy department, visit Adding Zest. My repost?
Told you I don’t hold back.
I promised God that when I started writing no matter what I’d be transparent and honest.
Saturdays are all about my Character Confession and so here it is.
Summer vacation is days away. I think. I’ve heard 5 different versions of when the last day is. I wouldn’t care except I will be traveling almost immediately after whatever the last day is.
The doctor isn’t liking the result of a test I keep taking so off to a specialist I go. The office insists on making the appointment. Ok, I say, but make sure you don’t do it on these dates because I won’t be here. They call. Guess when the appointment is?
My son received a thick packet in the mail from Compassion. He told me last month they kept calling him during school but he wasn’t allowed to answer. I called and left a voice mail explaining he is a minor and if there is something to say, please call our numbers. No call. The thick packet makes me nervous, so I open it first. I learn his child passed away and they are allowing him the option to leave Compassion. I had the fun of explaining the situation.
Most likely because of whatever is going on with me and the test, I’m not feeling 100%. I had one medicine switched but it is too early to tell if it is helping my symptoms. Remember last week’s confession about warm? This week is starving and not sleeping.
Kids needed a talking to by dad for ignoring me and their chores. I have to stay on top of it and it’s work, but there is improvement.
As of typing this post there are no comments on my How Would You Handle It? weekly post. Last week had great responses. This week zero. I really believe this is a weekly thing I’m supposed to to.
Last minute notice on school and child social activities. I don’t do well with chaos.
I go to get hair done and the stylist remarks how she heard there was a change at the school my kids go to and do I agree with it. I offer that whenever there is transition I pray the person prospers. She isn’t thrilled with my answer. I’m nervous about the next hour.
I come home and hear my name through the window. It’s my neighbor who one minute will talk to me and then for three years won’t. She has no problem looking through my window and watching every move we make and when she did talk to me it was questioning my choices and/or running down everyone else. I believe the three year break was because she was offended when our dog ran away. That was a devastating time and thankfully the dog returned and I even made a new friend from it. But the neighbor wouldn’t respond to my hellos or waves, nothing.
Her grandson, who also isn’t a big fan of ours because I wouldn’t let my child play with him anymore, says is this your dog. The same dog escaped from our fenced in back yard. I still have no idea how she did it. I can’t find a crack that she can fit in, but it has to exist. The grandmother made it clear that she watched the dog run down two streets and nearly miss being hit three times. The glare said it all. So apparently I’ll be on another three year no speaking punishment. I feel like a failure, but I confess, a little relieved as well. Things were a lot less stressful when she ignored me.
Hubby is golfing. Youngest is sunburned and tired from field day. Oldest is wanting me to stop writing so I can take him to a party I just found out about. The dog is looking at me. I’m not sure I like my hair.
I think that fits.