10 Reasons why I love my imperfect wife

puzzle-piecesYup, I said it, and no it’s not a typo. My wife is imperfect!

Granted her list of imperfections is dwarfed by my own impressive expose of not so lovable traits, and yes I did get her ok to throw this list into the cybersphere, but she is imperfect nonetheless and I love her!

This week marks a decade of marriage for the two of us, and on Christmas eve we will have been together for 16 years. Not a small feat considering we have only been alive for twice that time. In hollywood years I believe we are looking at the equivalent of a cool century. So at this mile stone and in celebration of our love, our family and our future adventures, I felt it important to share with the world, or at least the few hundred people who read my blog, that she is imperfect and we still have a cracker of a marriage.

There seems to be a belief rolling through the fields of singleness that to be truly happy, to build a marriage that shouts to the hilltops that perfection has been achieved, to have a relationship that can withstand the storms of life, two perfect people need to find each other, fall in love, get married and without any touch ups, repair work, renovations or upgrades, they will live happily ever after. No doubt will ever enter these people’s minds or hearts, they will never fight and at no time will anger, annoyance or frustration enter the equation. Doubt and uncertainty have no place in the marriage of these two!

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When the flame starts to flicker

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????What happens when passions fade, when the things you attach your purpose to stop being the reasons you keep moving forward or keep dreaming. When the pieces seem too shattered to gather off the floor, when simply choosing to take another step has become an effort and the noise of your life seems to engulf and overshadow you.

I’m a husband, a father, a soft place, someone who’s heart cries out for the little ones who don’t know they belong. At least that is the me I remember and the me I’m desperately trying to claw my way back to becoming. I write about fathering, sonship, manhood, adoption and all things related. But if you were to take a quick stock of my online footprint, you’d be forgiven for thinking I’ve suffered from little connectivity for most of 2014. What’s happened, where have I gone?

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Responsibility

his morning I heard that a prominent hotel heiress was arrested on being in possession of what seems to be cocaine. The report went on to say that there would be a punishment of rehabilitation and community service. Both laudable answers to help a person in need.

The difficulty I am having with this is the following. Had this person been a no-body, a shadow, a person merely existing and using to make it through another day, would the punishment have been the same. What if the person was ‘bad’ and sold, pushed and used, would the answer have been the same.

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