The Best Way to Fix It is to Pray About It
It was my husband’s turn to have “one of those weeks”. I don’t like it when he is stressed or upset. It makes me sad for him! So, I made sure he had coffee in one hand and a loaded lunch bag in the other as he left, and he’ll have one of his dinner favorites waiting for him when he get’s home. I’m a big fan of the idea that the way to a man’s heart is through his tummy. But there’s only so much food can do. As he walked out the door this morning, I was left wishing that I could have done more. I feel this way a lot. I’m a “fixer”, if something is wrong, I want to fix it. I’m probably a very bad listener because of it. I have a hard time just sitting and being compassionate. My brain immediately jumps to all the things that should be done to resolve the situation. And of course (insert sarcastic tone here), my advice is simply excellent all the time, because I am just at that right age where I’m young enough to think I know everything and old enough to think that I’m old enoug