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There are questions about ourselves that are easily answered, and there are other questions that present more of a challenge. If someone asks me, “Are you a husband?” I can show them my ring, present my wedding certificate, point to the woman standing next to me who shares my life and my last name. Yes, I am 100% sure that I’m married.
In the trucks that roll down America's interstates, there's usually a handful of beautiful women in the cab. It may be a frosty January morning, but there's Cindy, clad in nothing but her hot pink two-piece, sunning on a beach.
Tom and Charlie remembered their respective wedding anniversaries in two very different ways. Tom’s way landed him in his wife’s good graces; Charlie’s landed him in the doghouse. Here’s why.
The first lie I remember telling revealed everything about the man I would grow up to be. In six false words I prophesied my future—and yours as well. Here’s what happened.
“Dear God, make me right with you, then kill me.” For many years, that was my go-to prayer. I was certain that should I die in my sorry spiritual condition, I’d awake in hell. Life no longer held hope for me, so I envied those six feet under this world of hurt. So blending together this cocktail petition of doubt, despair, and fear, I prayed a wish for death, with one precondition.