In the forty years of my life I have felt privileged to live in a fairy tale. It doesn't mean that everything always goes the way that I hope it will but life is full of promise and there is fulfillment in abundance.
My focus today, as part of my fairy tale belongs to my wife Becky. For seventeen years, she has brought countless smiles to my face on many different occasions. She has seen me in the best of times and in the worst. She shares in life's greatest accomplishments. I believe that she was present when I got as angry as I can imagine getting (although the anger was not toward her or any of our children). She was there when I cried so hard that I couldn't breathe. She is my greatest fan when it comes to trying something new (Yes, this blog counts, too). We stick together on the decisions we make and the things that we do.
For those of you who know Becky will understand, in a small way, some of the things that I know about her. Her actions in life are the literal definition of compassion. There isn't anything that is helpful that she wouldn't do for another human being. I have watched with amazement as she tends to the needs of those whose heads hang low with all of life's challenges. Her eyes to help another seem to naturally gravitate to people and their needs, not what a person's status is in society. I firmly believe that there isn't anyone that could intimidate her. She is all about people and who they really are, on the inside.
In early 1994, I saw her for the first time. That was in church. When I saw her I found her to be stunningly beautiful! As the years have passed my feelings have grown deeper for her because of obvious reasons. We have shared a charmed life. Part of that, I believe, is because we try to be normal people. The world doesn't know us and in our own society we are just like everybody else, just trying to live good and honorable lives.
Becky, I love you! I will spend my life trying to be the person that you are. Thank you for all that you do to make life the blessing that it truly is.
