At the strangest of times do I long for my husband. My husband is a minister, and a very good one at that. I wish to feel the warmth of his fingertips at the nape of my neck, an innocent yet intimate touch of reassurance and love. Visions of his strong jaw, warm brown eyes with a strength in their depths, his awkward laugh, and warm touch fill my mind during the oddest hours of the day. I am glad to know that he would lay down his life for such a homely woman as myself. How he came to love me remains a mystery. Though I have no doubt that his love for me is strong, I cannot help but feel inferior to the other women around me. They are slender with beautiful features and superior intellect. I fall into the shadowy feeling that he will soon be attracted to one of these women instead of me. I am not traditionally beautiful, and I find particular comfort in sugary pastries. I know it is not beauty that he looks for, but rather the touch of God. My faith in my husband is kept strong by our long conversations. We speak of minor, rather silly things that make us laugh, but also of more tedious things that often cause me to worry. We speak of our love and our long life ahead of us, for it is not long ago that we married. Lately, though, I feel distant from my husband. I do not know if it relates to my previous fears, or if, in fact, there is something he wishes to keep from me. He has never been a closed book, nor have I, but this tingling sense of forboding crawls up my spine with every sideways glance he gives me. I have recently discovered something about my husband. My dreams revealed to me secrets of old, and many things that have been hidden from me in the past. I feel it is better to keep them to myself at this moment, because they have the potential to ruin many people's lives. My dreams have revealed one thing that is rather perplexing. I am God's Chosen. I do not choose to believe this, because, even though my dreams usually prove true, I am simply a misguided woman. I know nothing of greatness, and even less of being the Chosen. I have not yet shared this with my husband. I trust that he would have a detailed explanation for my dreams, even though I know he will tell me that it was only a dream and that God's will may be fulfilled at whatever pace the Lord so chooses, and carried out by whomever so chooses the duty. I have grown tired of his practiced answers, and soon I intend to hear the full extents of his thoughts. I find comfort in the knowledge that my duty has yet to be called upon, and that my husband will, in time, be at my side as we battle against the Lord's enemies.