I am afraid that my praise of my wife is nowhere near as eloquent as Anne Bradstreet, Puritan poet, wrote to her husband. But we must start somewhere, no?
If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers canneot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever.
Podcast #1,063: Beyond Resilience — How to Become Shatterproof
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Resilience is often touted as the end all, be all of coping with life’s
challenges and setbacks. But my guest knows from her studies, executive
coaching,...
15 hours ago
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