So We Finally Get To Paris

Twenty years ago, I proposed to my childhood sweetheart, Traci. We were 18 and 19 when we got married. I remember the euphoria of being so blissfully in love that the rest of the world and the people in it seemed like extras in our movie. We wanted to go to Paris for our honeymoon, but only got as far as New Braunfels, TX. It didn't matter, because we would be going on our five year anniversary, then our ten, then our.... and it never happened. Until now.

The past three years have been the most challenging of our lives. As I write this, my son walks in the room fumbling around for something he left here. My daughter comes in and leaps onto the foot of the bed with a tenderly authoritative, "Hey ol chum." And Traci walks in from the bathroom and smiles at me. That smile, for me, represents life. It injects creative energy into my slumbering heart. Her head tilts and her eyes grin. I have always loved her, but today it's different. Her love has walked, carried, and occasionally dragged me through the darkest moments of my life. She has seen my darkness, and she loves me still. And I'm compelled to know, to understand, to wonder, if I haven't touched the tangible grace of God in her goodness. Don't get me wrong. She can be tough and beautiful as mahogany, with a fire that is ninja fierce inside of her. But she absolutely fights for love. And she has lived, spoken, held, breathed, sang, written, and carried the kindness and heart of God. In watching her care for children, cry over the hurting, and give to those in need, I love God more. If I spend the rest of my life loving her back, I will still die a debtor to her.

So it's with that 18 year old's euphoric bliss that I am taking her to Paris, France in less than 36 hrs. We (the whole family) will be together, at the top of the Eifel Tower, getting lost in the alleys, eating pastries in a bistro, having coffee by a fountain, and renewing our vows on the steps of Notre Dame. That's the tradition. The kings would say their vows on the steps and cross the threshold to solidify their covenant. There have been more than a few times in my life where I felt like a pauper. She refuses to let me be anything other than a king. It's all she sees, and when I see what she sees, the favor on my life increases. Tonight, my family is together, my wife is beside me, and our awareness of the presence of Love is greater than it's been in twenty years of marriage. After 20 years of humming "So We Never Got To Paris", I guess this weekend I'm going to get to stop.