When our first child was born, Daniel worked extra hours to make ends meet. I learned how to stretch a grocery budget, repair our children’s clothes, and turn inexpensive ingredients into meals that made our family feel rich.
We had four children over the years.
There were sleepless nights, hospital visits, school meetings, arguments over money, and moments when exhaustion made us forget how to speak kindly to each other.
We weren’t perfect.
We argued about bills. We disagreed about how to raise the children. There were seasons when Daniel was so absorbed in work that I felt more like a single mother than a wife.
But we always found our way back to each other.
At least, that’s what I believed.
When Daniel’s father died, I stood beside him through the funeral and the months of grief that followed. When I lost my mother, he held me while I cried until I had no strength left.
