How about cleaning out some of those bins full of journals?My husband had a legitimate point. He had moved the bins of Bible studies and notebooks from attic to attic during the last fifteen years we’d been married. I lifted the lid and memories flooded my mind. Journaling in my childhood bedroom. Scribbling away under a lush Magnolia tree at Baylor. Pouring out my heart on lonely nights in my small apartment. That bubbly handwriting of my youth eventually gave way to chicken scratch that makes my children cringe today.

Have you ever had a conversation that helped you reframe a current circumstance? Recently my husband’s comments about a difficult situation provided me much-needed perspective.

I checked the mirror one more time. Veil in place, dress smoothed, no lingering candy in my teeth from the last-minute snack attack with my bridesmaids.