The Uxorious Blog

The Dad Story Project

Encouraging fathers, one heart at a time

U X O R I O U S

adjective ux·o·ri·ous \ˌək-ˈsȯr-ē-əs

: excessively fond of a wife

Us (I’m the uxorious one on the right).

Of this charge, I happily plead guilty—although “fond” strikes me as a weak verb. I think “joyously devoted” seems a better way to describe it, although in Latin it translates as “gauisus pietus” which seems a bit awkward. I do like the “excessively” part, however. I have been acting excessively toward my beloved Karen for the past 28 years, and we’ve been married almost 33 years. If you caught the little math error, it’s because I didn’t always treat her well. We married very young and things slid quite quickly downhill. Steeply downhill. Miserably downhill. Down toward ruin and certain divorce. With our young son stuck in the middle. And so much of our trouble was my doing. But then, five years into it, God did what he does. He intervened. He intruded. He invaded our lives with mercy and grace and faith, and everything changed. Resentment turned to forgiveness. Selfishness turned to happy sacrifice. Bitterness became sweet again. A dying love began breathing with God’s new life. New life individually and new life together. And things have never been the same.

“Oh no! Nobody’s going to want to read that sappy stuff!”

Karen Lewis

Wife

Nine years ago I started writing a column for my local newspaper.

I write often about my happiest passion—my family.

My dear wife shows up regularly.

So I thought I’d stick all the wife-stories in once place.

And yes, I realize I am a hopeless romantic.

I’ll let you be the judge…

Post holes and other affairs of the heart

by admin | Jun 5, 2015

Most mornings these days I wake up wondering if I can still dig a hole. A lot of projects on our old farm require shoving a shovel in the ground and by early December things get a little dicey. The nights get darker and colder and when the ground finally does freeze...

If we could choose forever now

by admin | May 31, 2015

An insurrection of chickadees yanked my eyes open very early and I padded downstairs to peer out on the dawn. Morning glory seedlings were straining for the new sun from the windowsill, the sump pump was gushing leftover January out of the basement, and the snow was...