I want to tell you a story from the archives of my separation.
Itâs one that came back to me as I was preparing this weekâs podcast episode where I answered a Wise Wife question about anointing oil.
Tim and I were estranged. Not just separated-but-still-talking. I mean truly estranged. Distance. Silence. Missing.
And I was desperate.
I had heard women talk about anointing something â an object your husband carries or wears. Something you pray over. Something you give to God as a point of faith.
I remember thinking:
âBut Lord⊠I donât have anything.â
There was no shared closet. No shoes at the door. No wallet on the counter. There was only distance. Silence. Estrangement.
And if youâve ever been in that place â you know the ache. You want to pray. You want to believe. You want to do something with your faith.
When Tim and I first got married, I had an expectation I never said out loud. I didn't even fully admit it to myself.
But I believed it.
I thought marriage was going to turn him into a spiritual leader. I thought we would suddenly pray together at night, read the Bible together in the mornings, have these deep spiritual conversations, and he would lead me in all of it.
I thought, "Now that we'...
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There was a season in my marriage where everything in the natural said, this is over.
The patterns hadnât changed, the evidence stacked up, and fear got really loud. đ
Not just emotional and overwhelming, but everything also felt urgent.
âFix this.ââDo something.ââPrepare for the worst.â
And underneath it all, the enemy was doing what he does best - encouraging me to interpret my situation t...
There was a season in my marriage where I took on a role I was never assigned.
I became the Marriage Parole Officer đźđ»
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I didn't call it that at the time, of course. I called it "trying to help." But it looked a lot like keeping mental records of his failures, correcting him, checking up on his whereabouts, questioning his motives, and monitoring his moral standing.
And all of it was done for...
The Wise Wife Letters
A weekly letter for the wife who is standing alone, fighting the right fight, and refusing to let fear run the house.
