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Christine Leeb--Speaker and Christian Family Coach specializing in Parenting and Child Discipline. Founder of Real Life Families --a non-profit organization building better families through free classes and resources. Mother to three awesome (and exhausting) children from whom she shamefully hides brownies. Wife to one patient (and polar-opposite) husband with whom she constantly quotes "Friends". www.RealLifeFamilies.org
'Her View From Home' is the Registered Trademark of Her View From Home, LLC
It was Day 3 of our honeymoon…dun…dun…dun! A day I will never forget. A day I learned what marriage was really about.
It was just three days after our big wedding, our “I Do’s,” our commitment to spend the rest of our lives together. For better or worse. In sickness and in health.
My husband had no idea how quickly I would bank on those vows!
Day 1 and Day 2 of our honeymoon were filled with splashes in the pool, walks along the beach, sunset watching, giant bike riding in the ocean, and seeing each other at our best–our sexiest outfits, our most agreeable moods, and our most fun and adventurous spirits.
On the evening of Day 2, we dined at a gorgeous beach side restaurant. We ate. We drank wine–all while gazing into each other’s eyes as the waves crashed on the shore nearby. It was so romantic. However, the next morning on day 3, I awoke to a gurgling stomach – churning – aching.
I knew that something was going to come out somewhere. It was just a matter of time. NOOOOOOOOOO! Not on my honeymoon!
I wanted to hide my pain. I wanted to pretend all was well so we could go snorkeling and continue being flirty and sexy and enjoying our fairy tale of love and romance and happiness and fun.
I was about to ruin it all with a reality check of “the runs.”
I couldn’t hide it any longer. I had to tell my husband of 3 days that I had the stomach bug. Every 20 minutes throughout the entire morning, I was running to the bathroom and then crawling back to bed. My sexy new spouse was right there. He was getting me sips of water. He was dabbing my sweaty head with a cool wash rag. He sat in a chair next to the bed as I groaned and complained – helping me – encouraging me – being there for me.
As the trips to the bathroom started winding down, all my strength and energy and modesty were gone. I simply quit putting my clothes back on. I quit caring that we were on our honeymoon. I quit caring that I was pooping every 20 minutes in our Honeymoon Suite right in front of my new forever man. I quit caring that I was a mess. I flopped over onto the bed falling face first into the pillows, and I hear my husband of less than 72 hour’s voice whisper to me….”Honey, you have some poop on your butt.”
And I thought I couldn’t feel worse. I didn’t care though. I couldn’t move. I just wanted to die of pain and now, of embarrassment. I was just lying there – hot, sweaty, stinky, naked – with poop on my sun-kissed butt.
Without saying another word, my brand new mate for life went into the bathroom, grabbed some toilet paper, sat next to me on the bed, and——-wiped my butt. Yes, he wiped my butt. Now that’s love!
This moment will forever be known as our “Welcome to Marriage Moment!”
I was mortified, but at the same time, I was given a gift. A gift to see that my husband was going to be there for me no matter what. That he was going to be someone I could laugh with, have romantic dinners with, walk on the beach with, and enjoy the good times with, but he was also going to be someone who would stay by my side when I was at my worst. And that’s what matters most in life and in marriage.
We still laugh together, even after almost 17 years of marriage, as we reflect on Day 3 of our honeymoon. We recognize how much Day 3 prepared us (especially for my husband) for what was to come. He has seen me even more vulnerable, at my most disgusting, at my very, very, very worst. He has been there for the birth via C-Section of our three children. He has been there for countless stomach bugs, flu bugs, cold bugs, and even depression bugs.
He’s been there–by my side–through it all.
It hasn’t been easy. We’ve even been near divorce, but I’m so thankful that we both have been able to move forward, press on, and persevere through some really rough times, tough conversations, and painful moments. We have both grown and allowed God to shape us into the individuals and into the couple that we are today. Through our struggles, we’ve gained strength, wisdom, trust, and confidence in ourselves and in each other. Our marriage gets stronger with every year…with every day.
Even now, on Day 6,052 of our marriage, the honeymoon is well over, but we continue to celebrate those moments throughout our lives that have brought us closer together – more committed to one another – forever. Best friends by each other’s side no matter what comes our way – poopy butts and all!
When I held you in my arms for the first time, it was like time stopped. As you looked up at me with innocence and new life, I was struck by the reality that my main role in your life would be to guide and direct you on the right path. I hoped I would do the best job possible. As I watched you grow, I basked in your joy of putting on your pretty dresses, adorned with layers of costume jewelry, parading around the house for your father and me to see. I dreamed often of what path you...
When God created a mother, He created her to love and serve in every moment. He knew the constant need would sometimes overwhelm her and she would have no choice but to rely on His strength and grace. He knew she would feel like there weren’t enough hours in the day . . . so God made midnight. He knew a mama’s days with a newborn would be busy and sometimes chaotic. He knew she would be distracted by meeting needs and attempting to find balance—that sneaking in a hot shower would become almost a luxury . . . so...
“I feel like I’m right in the middle of that rain shaft, suspended over the ocean,” I told my husband as we waited out a Florida afternoon rain on our hotel balcony. “There’s light and beauty all around me, but I feel like I’m just lost in that storm.” Just two nights before, we awoke to the cries of our 11-year-old son, the pain in his right lower abdomen so great that he woke up from a deep sleep. Our vacation took a solemn turn as my husband loaded him up in our rental car and drove to a children’s...
With the dog days of summer quickly coming to an end, a new school year is upon us. A new beginning—an opportunity for a fresh start, new friends, bigger challenges, and different exposures. And while the world often makes me want to place my kids in a bubble, pause time, protect their hearts, and ensure they have minimal visibility into the disorder happening outside of our small town suburbia life, I know that’s not possible (or healthy, let’s be honest). This is life. This is the fallen, sinful world we live in. So here we are, trying to make the...
The uncontrollable tears streamed down my weary face. As I looked around and saw the piled laundry on the table, toys and crumbs covering the floor, and my boys fighting yet again. I thought to myself, I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I’m utterly exhausted and overwhelmed. I see chaos all around me. I can’t take this anymore. I’m at my breaking point. Admittedly, in the last six years, since becoming a stay-at-home mom, I’ve hit my breaking point too many times. I was deep in what most would consider the trenches of motherhood. Somewhere along...
Because of the way our house sits, there isn’t a lot of natural light that flows into our home. As a girl who loves the sun and works at home, this has been a problem, especially in the winter months. I often find myself identifying deeply with my dog, who walks around the house in search of patches of sunlight to lay in. In fact, there is a section of my kitchen where I often sit and do my devotions because the sun shines down on me—a physical reminder of God’s love and presence. The first time I did this...
Have you ever hit rock bottom? I have and it was the scariest place I’ve ever been but that’s where I found Jesus. Where I truly encounter the Holy Spirit and the healing power and life He can give. I was raised in a Christian home by good parents that would have given their lives for me. I was raised in the church and loved by my church family. I enjoyed going to church as a child and I loved Jesus my whole life. At the age of 8 years old I asked Jesus into my heart and was baptized....
I’m waiting for another door. All my life, I’ve been told that when God closes one door, He opens another. And here I am, staring at the imminent end of the business I’ve built from nothing. Closing down what I started up from sheer willpower, too much caffeine, and the bold determination to work for myself. Scratching out what I made from scratch . . . and it feels horrible. God didn’t just close this door. He slammed it shut, boarded the whole thing up, and hammered the nails in where I cannot pry them open. Believe me. I’ve tried....
If I close my eyes and let myself, I can still see the 11-year-old boy with his pale feet sticking out from under the blanket, on his way to the morgue after a gun accident. If I close my eyes and let myself, I can still see the still, blue form of the 3-month-old who passed away in his sleep. We gave CPR and all the medicines “just in case,” but that baby was gone long before his caregiver brought him in through the door. If I close my eyes and let myself, I can still see the 3-year-old...
I lay face down on the floor, praying. Praying in the loosest sense of the word. Praying in the Romans 8:26 way—you know, when the Spirit “intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” Because I could not utter any actual coherent thoughts at that point. I was weary and beaten down. Day after day I had been in combat, battling an opponent I didn’t anticipate: one of my children. My own child, one of the people I had lovingly grown inside my body and loved sacrificially for all these years, had staunchly and repeatedly put himself in opposition...

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