"He took up a lot of space. Moving around us. Weaving in and out of the aisles. Some ladies were annoyed. An old man behind us snickered and under his breath said, ‘hurry up.’"
I am no stranger to the six-week postpartum permission slip to tell my husband he got the green light to have sex! Been there, done that, four times already—but this time was different...
I was kicked in the head, I was beaten with a club. And then strangled again for the kill; at which time he disposed of my body into an area I refer to as the ‘hole’.
If God were to ask you to demonstrate the evidence of your faith, how would you begin? Would you say that you pray daily? That you live right? That you love your neighbor? That you feed the poor?
