This Independence Day marked the first time in seven years I spent my holiday somewhere other than a newsroom. In a word, it was magnificent. Instead of trying to cobble together a decent newscast from fifteen parades, one charity golf tournament, and a warning about undercooked meat, we hit the road with two friends, bound for Big Bend National Park. Continue reading
A few weeks into our marriage, Jason made a heartbreaking declaration over a bowl of spaghetti.
“I don’t think I like pasta.”
He might as well have said “I don’t think I want kids” or “I think God is calling me to be a missionary in Iran.” There are certain things one should discuss before saying “I do,” but I never thought to bring up noodles—my absolute favorite food. Is this what we meant in our marriage vows when we promised unconditional, sacrificial love? Continue reading