By: Adam Marshall
Deep and meaningful romantic attachment is the product, not the catalyst, of a loving relationship.
By: Adam Marshall
Deep and meaningful romantic attachment is the product, not the catalyst, of a loving relationship.
Love-starved singles may feel like they need to take drastic measures, but there may be a simple solution to getting more love out of your life.
By: Amy Van Veen
What fills your tank? Perhaps you already know the answer to this question – as well as why it’s important for your life, your family and your marriage. But if you’re like most, you’ve probably never asked yourself what it is that fills you with joy and energy.
By: Joshua Rodgers
Godly guys care about the beauty of your heart, but you can also put some thought into the way you look on the outside.
By: Laura Bennett
There’s a lot of conflicting emotions when your own habits start to remind you of your parents’. The horror of turning into an adult like them mixes with a sense of pride in the strength of your DNA. It’s excitingly tribal and depressing all at the same time.
The bell had just rung for the end of recess. Children were heading back to their classrooms, and Year 1 teacher Mrs Boonen was preparing to return to hers when she noticed one of her students stumbling across the playground towards her, fists clenched, rubbing her eyes, sobbing. Mrs Boonen crouched to the ground and extended her arms to Amelia, and the six-year-old rushed into her teacher’s embrace.
By: Sheridan Voysey
Twenty-one anniversaries later, I sometimes look at my wife Merryn and wonder how this marriage of ours works. I’m a writer and speaker, Merryn is a statistician. I work with words, she works with numbers. I want beauty, she wants function. We come from different worlds!
By: Clare Bruce
When Netflix released 13 Reasons Why last year its depiction of teen suicide and abuse was criticised for being graphic, unnecessary, and putting young people at risk emotionally without providing them proper access to support services.
By: Tricia Goyer
I worked at my desk, noting in the windowsill, a family photograph that warmed my heart. The “you’ve-got-mail” chime sounded, and I glanced at my email. Scanning the name, my heartbeat quickened. Steven. My first boyfriend. My first kiss. My first everything. I opened the email: