Fixing A Broken Marriage Quotes

Soulmates are those people who will enter your life, fix it when it is broken, fill it when it is empty, and shower it with love when it is in drought. These people are not perfect, but they make every bit of your life, perfect for you.

Attraction The whites of his eyes pull me like moons. He smiles. I believe his face. Already my body slips down in the chair: I recline on my side, offering peeled grapes. I can taste his tongue in my mouth whenever he speaks. I suspect he lies. But my body oils itself loose. When he gets up to fix a drink my legs like derricks hoist me off the seat. I am thirsty, it seams. Already I see the seduction far off in the distance like a large tree dwarfed by a rise in the road. I put away objections as quietly as quilts. Already I explain to myself how marriages are broken-- accidentally, like arms or legs.

A blanket could be used to fix your broken marriage. You’ll also need duct tape, an empty car trunk, a getaway driver, and the most opportune moment to snatch your mother-in-law away to never be seen or heard from again. 


...her heart filled with regret; regret for a broken marriage she knew could never be fixed and for the life she had imagined herself living which had been ripped apart, like her heart, by the man who she thought she would grow old with and be married to for the rest of her life.

consider trying to forgive him yet again. He did his part, so I returned to our home in Virginia that summer of 2010. I wasn’t hopeful, but I didn’t have the strength to end our marriage—or to save it. We attended counseling together for a while, but the conversations reached dead ends. Nonetheless, Robert attempted to rebuild our connection. He wasn’t staying out all night. He helped with the kids and seemed committed to fixing the broken bond between us. Before we knew it, training camp was starting again and he would once again be competing for a spot on the roster. The coaching staff had experienced some changes,

You love the lifestyle you live, and instead of licking your wounds and moving on, you’d rather fix your broken marriage. And I’m here to help you.” “But how?” A slow, sardonic smile unfurls across my face. “I’m going to teach you how to fuck your husband

You love the lifestyle you live, and instead of licking your wounds and moving on, you’d rather fix your broken marriage. And I’m here to help you.” “But how?” A slow, sardonic smile unfurls across my face. “I’m going to teach you how to fuck your husband.

None of us realizes how before marriage we spend our little years, our teen years, and especially our college years dreaming, envisioning, creating ideas of exactly what marriage will be and the multiple ways it will heal our hurts, brokenness, and loneliness. We begin to look closely at marriages and relationships we desire to emulate, and we begin to prescribe for ourselves the perfect marriage. In essence, we create a golden calf idol of the many ways marriage will fix us. But marriage was never designed to fix.

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Many marriages would have succeeded today but many of the individuals didn't have the equipment; the knowledge to use to fix the situation. No marriage is irreparable but most most people are just too tired to fix it. This why it is important for you to get understanding. In all your getting don't get love....get understanding first. Understand what it means to be a woman. Understand what it means to be with a woman. You need to understand the complexancy in a woman and the uniqueness in a man. Understand communication skills, understand how to manage emotions and how to handle anger, you have to understand the dynamics of disagreement , you have to understand how to handle unfaithfulness; broken trust, if you do not understand all these things, you will always be stocked in life.

Takes time to build, is easily broken, and is difficult to fix— a marriage relationship

On one particular night, I was determined to get a half-decent night of sleep because I had a big meeting at work the next morning, where I was talking to the school board about the special education program at our school. It was a really, really important meeting, and I didn’t think I could get through it on an hour of sleep. I pumped Emma full of two bottles of milk, hoping she’d conk out, but knowing it was a crapshoot. I told Noah about the meeting and emphasized how important it was. I had to get a decent night of sleep. He swore he understood. So when Emma woke up screaming at two in the morning, I expected him to get up with her. “I’ve got a headache, Claire,” he mumbled into his pillow. “Can’t you get her?” I had a headache too. I had a headache almost all the time these days, as well as big purple circles under my eyes. Skipping out on my parental duties was never an option. “You know I have a big meeting tomorrow.” Noah squeezed his eyes shut. After a long minute of Emma’s cries increasing in volume, he got out of bed. And slammed the door shut behind him when he left the bedroom. Just as the cries subsided and I started to drift off again, the screams abruptly started again. A few seconds later, Noah came back into the bedroom. He flopped down on the bed and covered his head with the pillow. “I can’t deal with her,” he said. “You have to do it.” “But I told you, I have a meeting tomorrow!” “Well, I have a headache. I’m not getting up.” And that was it, as far as he was concerned. He acted like Emma was my baby, he was doing me a favor by trying to help, but if he didn’t want to do it, he didn’t have to. I remember staring at him in the dark bedroom, waiting to see if he would change his mind. He didn’t budge. I had to get up and spend the rest of the night comforting Emma. He never apologized for that one. Even though I was a wreck at my meeting the next day, and he ended up sleeping in after I dropped Emma and Aidan off at daycare. It was so incredibly unfair. After that, it seemed like we were at war more and more frequently. He never carried his weight when it came to the children and the housework, and what’s worse, he didn’t care. He told me all I did was nag him. We stopped doing things together as a family—I preferred to go out with the kids myself so I didn’t have to watch him play with his phone instead of talking to me. And we never did anything together as a couple. I can’t remember our last date night. For a while, we were making an effort to get a babysitter and go out, but I can’t remember the last time either of us even suggested it. I kept telling myself things would get better as the kids got older. But now they’re older. And it turned out, our marriage got too broken to fix.

Everything broken in our marriage stems from me, and he can't fix me.

So much of marriage, and life is about sitting with uncomfortable feelings, and not reaching for the quick fix that won't work in the long run. This sometimes means confusion, lack of control, or feeling broken before you feel whole. It means understanding "not knowing" as a positive capacity rather than a failure or ignorance. People who pray, people who meditate, have a model for this. They assume that it takes time for mysteries to clarify. The artist Georgia O'Keeffee famously said, "Nobody sees a flower-really-it is so small. It takes time-we haven't time-and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time." "A spiritual practice helps us to know that seeing takes time; and that sometimes it can take a long time to see because we resist painful realities.

You have twenty-four hours in every day and a limited amount of resources. God won’t judge you for not being able to spend what you don’t have. Otherwise, the marriage may fail or at least lack any healthy affection, and your child with a disability ends up experiencing the effects not only of a broken body or mind, but of a broken home. You may never be able to fix your child, but you can secure your child’s home so that he or she grows up in a loving, emotionally close, and spiritually healthy environment. Isn’t that as important as pursuing another expensive and time-consuming miracle cure? To all of you wives, I ask, “How often do you give thought to this role of being your husband’s helper? How often do you wake up and think, ‘How can I help my husband today?’ only after you’ve figured out how to first help every one of your children?” When you repeatedly ask this question about your husband, you’re living in marriage as God designed it.

I finally realized who really ran the show at home; my mom. I just didn't realize how toxic it was until I saw him crumble under her will and joined forces with her when I was violated. I had no idea at the time what this kind of dysfunction was, but I knew it was wrong and unfair treatment. My dad was a decent hard-working man who found himself caught in a web of an extremely controlling wife he loved but who emasculated him. He found her difficult to live with, and so the best way he could try to keep peace in the marriage was to play the role of “go along to get along”. That grew into a whole different branch of coping mechanism; enabling.  Mom was the boss and he accepted it by withdrawing and avoiding the big elephant in the family. His little girl, his only girl, his “little shadow” no longer was his priority; pleasing mom at all cost was the main vein that fed his insufficiency to step into his authority as the head of the home. As time passed, I witnessed repeatedly, that his needs were not a priority and he accepted my mom's behavior no matter how it infected us or the atmosphere of the home. He did all this just to keep her pleased and so he didn't have to hear the constant bickering, even though it was a temporary fix.

Treat marriage like a diamond necklace; if broken, fix it, but do not throw it away.