This essay was three years in the making. I wrote the first raw draft soon after my husband lost his religion and it was with fear and trembling that I shared it with my writing group. With their encouragement, I brought it to a group of strangers at a Collegeville Institute writing workshop. Then, after two years of sitting on it, I finally got up the gumption last spring to submit it to some lofty literary journals. I was absolutely shocked when the essay was accepted by Image Journal.
A lot has changed in three years, but I am glad I captured the emotion I felt during that season. Already, strangers have contacted me to say that these words have made them feel understood. That makes it all worth it.
A big shout out to my husband Josh who supports my writing 100 percent, reads every draft, and has courage in spades. I love you.