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“While my husband, Jeff, slept, I sat in the glow of my computer screen, scrolling through Facebook profiles of old loves and picturing what it would’ve been like to have ended up with one of them. I longed for that romance and excitement in my life again. It wasn’t technically cheating, but the next morning I felt so guilty that I couldn’t look my husband in the eye. I was sickened with myself. I even skipped prayer time, afraid of what God thought of me. “Later that day, I took Jeff’s suits to the dry cleaner. He’d forgotten to empty his pockets again, so I irritably fished out sticks of gum and loose change. This is what my life has become, I stewed. Suddenly, a soft voice interrupted my angry thoughts. “‘I miss cleaning out my Charlie’s pockets,’ the elderly woman behind me said, her tone filled with pain. ‘I lost him two years ago after 50 years together. I took so much of it for granted. Cherish your time together…you’re God’s gifts to each other.’ “I looked at her, half in shame, half in awe, but she just smiled at me knowingly. My desire for a thrilling new romance was replaced by a deep need to simply lean my head on my husband’s shoulder and hold his hand. “The sweet woman’s words stuck with me, and I marveled at the Lord’s ability to send the perfect message at the exact moment I needed to hear it. Feeling my heart swell, I sent my husband a text that said, You’re my gift, I love you. I meant every word.” —Christy Fitton, 42, Southfield, MI