Happy Birthday, Cowboy!

It was fall, just 31 years ago, that I met Mike. He showed up at an early morning religion class that I was taking. It was 6 a.m. to be exact. Now if a 15 year old girl can look attractive at 6 a.m., then there has to be more to it than just surfacey stuff. And if a city girl can fall for a curly-topped red head who was "just a cowboy," according to her sister, Colette, then there must have been something deeper going on.

The truth is, we fell in love through the U.S. Postal Service. He actually lived about 70 miles away but had been staying with his good friend, Tom, who happened to be in the same religion class as me. Mike was on the brink of turning 18 and I was a young sophomore in high school. We didn't have cell phones or email, and long distance phone calls were very expensive, so we wrote letters. Scads of them.

The mailbox at my parents' home was down the lane, aways from the house. I would make the little trek to check it multiple times a day to see if there was another letter for me. We shared our thoughts, dreams, and deepest feelings on the lines of those pages. The funny thing is that when we actually got to spend a little time together, we hardly knew what to say! We both like to write and that was just easier somehow.

The next year, when I was all of age 16, he left for Ohio on a two year mission for our church. The only contact we had for that two years was a couple of phone calls and lots and lots of letters. Eventually I went off to college, but the letter writing never ceased. We have shoe boxes stuffed with our love letters. They're our treasures even though our girls might laugh themselves silly over our gushy expressions of love.

Lest this sound like a perfect little life, let me say that we've had our share of tough times. During a particularly horrible period of illness for me a few years back, I got a chance to take a look at what he was really made of. I would tell people, "This is when you get to see someone's true colors, and his are pure white. Wanna know why? Because he's an angel." He may be a part time cowboy, but back then he was a full time husband and father that took wonderful care of me, the kids, and our home. He got some help from family and friends, too, but it was rough going and the stress was nearly palpable. But he did not complain.

It was due to his inspiration and devotion that I still have the chance of learning and growing on this earth. He was the one that knew we needed to make a move, and he was willing to walk away from the beautiful acreage we lived on, the dreams he had for corrals and more horses, a huge garden, and life in the peaceful countryside. He listened carefully when God let him know that if we would relocate that his wife would finally get well. I am eternally indebted to him for heeding that message.

Our life was good, and we were getting by, but we wanted more. Together we have been on a journey of discovery and learning, and we're seeing some nice results. We are living in more consciousness now, aware of what we're creating for ourselves with our thoughts and words. Nothing slips by anyone in our home anymore. You just can't get away with complaining or negativity, because inevitably a family member will say, "Is that what you want more of?" We're learning together, and it's a fantastic journey.

So, from deep within my soul, I say "Happy Birthday" to the man I have loved for 31 years. Thank you for being my best teacher, my closest friend, and my partner through thick and thin. You've done well for yourself, and I know there's some pretty wonderful things still on the horizon. Even so, I'm glad you've chosen to live in joy now!

May God continue to walk with you as He has these 49 years.

InJoy and love,
Cristi