I look down at the scale. I get off and then back on, trying again, as if the numbers will magically change.

Pfft, whatever.

I roll my eyes and finally step off feeling dejected and wondering why it’s been so hard to lose this baby weight.

My husband comes over and rubs my shoulders.

“You’re beautiful,” he gently reminds me, “Those numbers don’t measure your grace or wisdom.”

“Yeah right,” I scoff, instantly regretting how I just brushed off my husband’s kind words.

“Come back to bed,” he urges, grabbing my waist and lifting off my t-shirt, exposing me.