This week, as my husband and I chatted with new friends, a hard experience drifted into the conversation.
It’s a fair question. My husband was born and raised in Montgomery, Alabama. I was born in Kentucky and raised in South Carolina. We met at a church in South Carolina and eventually moved closer to his family in Alabama.
The leap from there to Mississippi was not one we ever planned to make. My husband took a job as a youth pastor at a church in a very small town on the bank of a river in Alabama, just thirty minutes from his parents and his daughter. It was there my oldest son turned two, and it was there I found out I was expecting my youngest son.