I was in college when I first eyed my husband. He was sitting on the floor at a friend’s Bible study gathering with his back against the wall, dressed in scruffy jeans and a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his muscular forearms. His thick brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes left me weak in the knees.
And the best part was that this handsome hunk of a man had a tattered Bible in his lap. Read more…












