Zac Parsons

Last month, ESPN produced a nice 8-minute piece on Marie Tillman, the widow of Pat Tillman.

While speaking to a group of high school students last month after the Ft. Hood shooting, our discussion touched on the volunteer nature of American armed forces.  When someone mentioned how much soldiers have to sacrifice in order to join up, I brought up the professional sacrifice of Pat Tillman.  To my shock and amazement, none of the students had ever heard of him.

While sharing Pat’s story with this group, my own personal emotions regarding Pat’s decision and death came surging back to me.  While I’m definitely more of a pacifist now than at any other time in my life, I can still draw strength and inspiration from his decision to give up his high paying and high profile position as an NFL player.  The act of temporary sacrifice for the sake of a greater good has not been exactly been a hallmark of my own life.

Trying to find a balance between striving for what I want, and denying myself those same desires has been the unresolved theme of my life.  In an effort to “die to self” in an aim toward virtue, I often times sabotaged myself (and my family, as a result) as I came too close to reaching my desires.  I began to expect failure like a musical virtuoso expects applause. I couldn’t believe Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka when he remarked that the man who suddenly got all that he wanted, lived happily ever after.

I’m not sure that I can say that I completely understand Pat’s decision, but recently, it has taken on new meaning for me.  From everything that Pat accomplished (3.84 GPA in 3 1/2 years at Arizona State University, while being named Pac-10 Player of the Year, as a 5 foot 11 inch linebacker) to what those close to him said about his drive, it seems clear that he didn’t do very many things half-assed.  So how does someone with that kind of focus and resolve just change his path so drastically mid-course?

What if he didn’t change his mind?  What if his decision to enlist was completely in line with his personal goals and desires?  If becoming a successful professional athlete was Pat’s supreme goal, then yes, he did make a wholesale change to his values and desires.  But if his desire was to be a great man, then it was just his definition of what makes a man great that changed.

It’s another variation of the discussion on life as more of a journey than a destination.

I now understand desire as a virtue.  As long as that desire aligns with the ultimate principles that govern life. A desire that leads to a full stomach, an escape from reality, or an orgasm is not one to embrace as life-giving or virtuous.  But a desire that leads to a peaceful resolution, a restored relationship, or the benefit of others may be.

Desires and choices come from our goals.  When we are immature, we can only see a short distance into the future.  As we grow, we can see farther and our goals reflect longer term aims.

Pat’s goal was to be a great man.  My goal is the same.  But how I’m defining great has changed.  A great man doesn’t deny fulfilling his desires for the virtue of denial itself.  A great man aligns his goals with the most virtuous truths on the highest level of abstraction that he can reasonably comprehend.  Now, if I miss a meal, miss a nap, or avoid romance with other women, it may seem seem like some sort of denial of desire, but it is what I want.  And I’m finally OK with getting what I want.

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On April 26, 2007, the Los Angeles Times printed a story about one man’s transition from male to female, and the road that led him to that decision.  The twist, in this story, was that the essay was written by one of their own (a sportswriter).  It was news that shocked many, but gave courage to countless more.  With the talent of his writing still very much in tact, even as much of his world was crumbling around him, Mike Penner “came out” to his co-workers, peripheral friends, and his reading audience with a promise:  To return to them as someone new, Christine Daniels.

I want to give you the link to his revelatory article, and I will.  But first, you should probably know the end of this tale.  This same sportswriter, Mike Penner, was found dead on Friday.  He was 52.

Although the official cause of death has not been released, most around the L.A. Times have acknowledged it was suicide.  Mike’s transition to Christine was not permanent.  By October 2008, he was again writing for the Times as Mike Penner.  Whether the regression back to male status was temporary or not, we do not know.  What we do know is that his journey was not finished after his essay was published 2 and 1/2 years ago.

Really, as I’m writing this, I keep reflecting on his 2007 essay over and over.  It’s beautiful, laugh out loud funny, poignant, and courageous.  I’ll just include one quote here, a question that transcends gender-confusion and touches many people with a secret:

“How do you go about sharing your most important truth, one you spent a lifetime trying to keep deeply buried, to a world that has grown familiar and comfortable with your façade?”

Although I’m confident that he didn’t coin the phrase, I often let the lyrics Steven Tyler sang in the Aerosmith song “Livin’ On The Edge” go running through my head:

“Life’s a journey, not a destination.”

Like many popular quotes, after they become common, they become trite.  The truth of this statement is hard to for me to ignore.  With so few things in this world that are permanent, it’s frustrating to me how often I feel like I have “arrived” somewhere.  It’s an announcement that “the struggle is over” and falseness has given way to truth. But somehow, the “arrival” is an illusion.  Even Steven Tyler’s personal journey to sobriety is in serious question, after years of staying at the “Hotel de Sober”.

It’s more than tricky to balance the concept of our personal identity with our habitual actions, even something as personal as sexual orientation or gender.  Mike/Christine spent the majority of his life wearing a mask, and when the facade was lifted, the struggle was not over.  Life is struggle, life is movement, life is dynamic.  The most significant events of our lives shape much of how we act, but they do not define who we are.

We are human before we are writers, employees, artists, Christians, Muslims, lovers, warriors, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, men, or women.

Mike Penner had a gift for seeing the human side of his sports assignments. He surely developed this from his own struggle with his identity as a human.  It’s tragic that his struggle is now over, especially for those closest to him. His life and death have reminded me of the correlation between struggle and growth.  I am thankful to him for this.

You can read his “Old Mike, New Christine” article here.  It is my hope that it will be encouraging, and uplifting, and not just a mere cautionary tale of the danger of change.

Mike Penner/Christine Daniels, rest in peace.

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The dust has settled from the tragedy at Ft. Hood.  With it, little else is known about why Major Nidal Malik Hasan felt compelled to take so many innocent lives in a storm of bullets at the deployment center.  As I wrote last week, it is possible that Hasan was attempting to go down in a blaze of glory for the sake of God, or perhaps by what he perceived as God’s command.  In an unusual ending to this type of attack, the shooter remains alive.  Although, reports of permanent paralysis may explain why he was unable to turn the gun on himself during the chaos.

A fact that did not get as much attention as his religious affiliation, but may be equally connected to his behavior, is Hasan’s role as a psychiatrist for soldiers returning from tours in the Middle East.  If you believe that we move toward, and become like, that which we think about, then his violent behavior may be slightly more understandable.  Hour after hour, day after day, of hearing and processing accounts of death and carnage in a messy war would take a toll on even the healthiest of doctors.  But the attack earlier this month may have been the price for this exposure to vicarious violence for this psychiatrist.

Most psychiatrists will help patients to filter through their thoughts and behaviors, classifying some as normal and healthy, and other as disruptive or negative.  For soldiers preparing to return to civilian life, the rules of war that have become second nature to many of them, are not the same rules of life in America, and the psychiatrist helps the soldier to come to terms with that.  The psychiatrist helps the patient to build new thoughts and plans for action in a future of non-violence and a stable civil and judicial structure.  For Hasan, this breakdown of normal thoughts and actions for the future of a civilian must have been truly dissonant in his mind, knowing that his future was likely to include the violence of these soldiers’ pasts.

Even though he was born in Virginia, there have been reports that Hasan felt more of a connection to his Middle Eastern heritage than the Red, White, and Blue of his true homeland.  Perhaps in his personal thoughts of the war battles, he put himself in the shoes of the local Iraqi or Afghan fighters.  The best memory training techniques and methods for developing your subconscious hard drive include visualizing yourself doing something in first person perspective.  If Hasan’s thoughts drifted from: “How terrible it must be to kill someone!” to “How terrible it must be to be attacked on your own soil?” perhaps he did imagine himself as a local fighter of the Americans from the homeland.

Of course, the connection to his religion is still key, as many people see themselves as a Christian, Muslim, Jew, etc. first, and an American, Iraqi, Afghan, etc. second.  With the declaration of jihad from many terrorist groups, a holy war would trump any connection to his profession, his country of birth, and even his connection with mankind, as God’s will is supreme.  Devotion to Islam coupled with regular exposure to the love and charity of fellow Muslims and those outside of the faith should not result in violence.  But any religious beliefs that are combined with images of repression, invasion, or a divine mandate for murder often times will.

Perhaps the saying “Violence begets more violence.” is proven true once again.  Even if the original violence is just in one’s mind.

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Even if you consider yourself a soccer fan, unless you live in Germany, there’s a decent chance that you have never heard of Robert Enke.  That might have changed during the summer of 2010, with the expectation that South Africa’s World Cup will be the most watch soccer tournament in history.  You see, Enke was rising to the top of the German goalkeeper depth chart.  There was a great chance that he would have started a match or two, if not all of them.

With such a high profile tournament, television production companies often highlight stories of human interest among teams, players, fans, or locations.  ESPN might have chosen to profile Enke and the tragedy of losing his 2-year-old daughter in 2006.  Her rare heart condition ended up taking her life, and breaking Robert’s heart as well.  Even with an outpouring of support from friends and fans all around him, Robert became mired in a deep depression.

While you can never replace an individual human’s life with another, Robert and his wife Theresa began the process of adopting a new daughter in 2008.  But even caring for his new daughter, Leila, could not replace the growing hole in his heart as he replayed the death of his first daughter, Lara, over and over again in his mind.

On Tuesday, November 10, Robert stepped in front of a train with the intention of ending his life.  Tragically, he was successful.  Through his suicide note, his wife, and his psychiatrist, we now know that it was a fear of losing Leila that motivated his act.

If you believe that we move toward and become like that which we think about, then it may make sense to you that Robert Enke could not shake his daughter’s death from his life.  Even if it seems incomprehensible that someone could take himself away from his daughter by suicide, in an attempt to prevent his daughter from being taken away from him, that was likely a part of his thought process.

His depression was deep, but it was a secret.  Enke believed that It was keeping this secret that kept his new daughter from being taken from him.  If the adoption organization were to know about his depression, perhaps they would take Leila away.  Knowing the thread he hung on by after Lara’s death, another lost child would do him in.  So even on the precipice of his greatest soccer glory, his future seemed uncertain and dreadful.

Perhaps that is why he traded in his tomorrows for the relief of no longer thinking about the pain of loss.  It’s a shame.  Hopefully his story will reach those living with depression and encourage them to reach out, even at the risk of social or professional peril.

For now, it is time to heal.

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About a month ago, I watched a movie called “Reservation Road“, starring Joaquin Phoenix and Mark Ruffalo.  It’s the story of how two fathers deal with the accidental death of the one’s son at the hands of the other.  I cried in several parts of the movie.  It’s tragic whenever a child dies, and it feels even more real when you imagine yourself in the shoes of that parent.

What struck me most about the movie was how I was unable to fully relate to the father who’s grief turned to rage and vengeance.  He spoke of the injustice of the fact that his son’s killer was walking the streets while he would never hold his own son again.  He believed that things would be fair and balanced again when the perpetrator was punished (killed).  I kept wondering if I could ever come close to understanding that with only a vicarious experience to go by.  While the death of my children is my greatest fear; more death does not give me a sense of justice, but just a continuance of pain.

I would recommend seeing the movie, and I don’t believe that I have spoiled it for you.  The boy’s death occurs in the opening 10 minutes, and the majority of the film is the story of the aftermath.

The reason that I mention this movie is because of the interview I saw yesterday with the mother of model Jasmine Fiore.  If you have not followed the story, Jasmine and her ex-husband’s rocky relationship ended with her body being found in a trunk, with her fingers cut off and her teeth pulled out, to prevent the identification of her body.  Jasmine’s body was eventually identified by the serial number on her breast implants.  Her ex-husband, Ryan Jenkins had disappeared and become the primary suspect.  The story became more popular nationally because of the murder suspect’s recent appearance on a VH1 reality show.  The show has since been cancelled because of the tragedy.  Earlier this week, Ryan Jenkins was found in a Canada hotel room, hanging from a coat rack, dead.

In the interview, Jasmine’s mother speaks of her desire for justice and her relief that she now has it, because of Ryan’s death.  She referred to him as a “coward who didn’t want to face the consequences of his actions”, who took the “easy way out”.  She shares that she would have liked to have seen him behind bars.  It’s sad to me that this man’s death was not enough justice for her, and that she would feel better for him to suffer more before eventually meeting the same fate (death) as her daughter.  I really hesitate to even judge her reactions at this team under these circumstances, but it fascinates me to think about the issues of justice in human terms.

I’ve had some interesting conversations with people over hypothetical situations that mirror stories like this.  Is there an appropriate response to death at the hands of another human?  Does it matter whether it is homicide or manslaughter?  Is revenge ever justified?  If you believe in a higher power, do you desire God to be vengeful, or forgiving?  If He/She is both, where is the dividing line?  If the dividing line is indiscernible, how then shall we live?

I think about and pray for the mother of Ryan Jenkins as well.  She has lost a son, and she probably does not even recognize the person being portrayed in the news that committed these acts.  Does she blame herself for how she raised him?  Does she wonder what could have been if she would have done something different?  How does she move on from here?

I’m not sure what all is to be learned from this.  Death is tragic at a young age, but it is a part of what happens in this world.  The survivors are the only ones capable of making things better after the fact.  We don’t want to prepare for it, but we my be call upon to respond to it.  God help us.

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Picture of Manson released August 2009

That’s right.  40 years ago this week, a relatively unknown hippie and his gang began a killing spree that would change the understanding of murder in America, and throughout the world.  Seven people were dead by the end of it all.  But it was not the number of bodies that troubled the police and eventually the rest of society.  It was the manner in which they were killed.  I will let you Google the details if you would like, but the fact that a woman who was 8 months pregnant was killed with a knife is a enough to make me realize that this was an extremely heinous crime.

The sad part about a crime spree, where several events or several victims are linked by one criminal, is that the criminal is often the one most remembered.  I can’t tell you any of the victims in Milwaukee, but I know that they were killed by Jeffrey Dahmer.  You have probably experienced the same thing.  What is interesting about Charles Manson, is that he did not kill anyone, personally.  He just manipulated others into action.  He was the mastermind.  In his words, as seen in the short video below, he “influenced” the people at that ranch.

Manson takes responsibility for the murders, but in a different part of the interview (not shown) he tries to explain that the perpetrators of the murders are also responsible.  In this web site’s efforts to try to understand what it means to be human, I often look at our actions, and then try to trace back the cause.  This often leads me to question responsibility, which often seems to be a paradox of being everyone’s fault and no one’s fault, in most cases.  In this case, it’s hard to believe that anyone would say that the victims were at fault for what happened to them.

Taking personal responsibility has been and continues to be an integral part of my recent personal renaissance.  I would like to use this as an opportunity to discuss what the education of The Pacific Institute does NOT endorse regarding the results of our lives.  Understanding our thought patterns better will absolutely help us to understand our behavior patterns and habits better.  Believing that everything is out of our control leads to a victim mentality, which is something that I have struggled with throughout my life.  It’s the dark, ugly side of the destiny coin, if you choose to flip it.  But, being a victim is very legitimate in the course of life, with this being an extreme, if not obvious case.

So, it is not a law (looking at you, fans of “The Secret”) as much as it is a principle.  Generally speaking, we move towards and become like, that which we think about.  But not in all cases.

It is concerning to me how much influence Charles Manson had on his followers that eventually led them to take human life in such a gruesome way.  Its even more concerning to me how much he has been revered and celebrated over the last 40 years.  Even Paul from “The Wonder Years” ended up starting a band combining his name with Marilyn Monroe (Just kidding.  I know that is an urban legend.).  It seems that our minds can’t always differentiate between thoughts that are beneficial for us and ones that will ultimately harm us or others.

Whatever it was that Charles Manson was thinking about before that night, it finally manifested itself that night in August, 1969.  It makes me think of the families of the victims who must still wince every time his name is read or spoken, with no mention of their loved ones.  Gary Hinman, Sharon Tate-Polanski, Jay Sebring, Abigail Folger, Voytek Frykowski, Steven Parent, Leno LaBianca, and Rosemary LaBianca… rest in peace.

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But what was the question?  Just hours before passing on November 21, 2008, Brendan Foster was interviewed by CNN for a food drive for the homeless that he helped  birth from his hospital bed, just two weeks before.  The reason for his hospital stay?  Leukemia.  The interview and the question that he was asked is in the video below.

It’s been over 7 months since Brendan died, but his words have echoed in my mind countless times since then.  I tend to be an adventurous person.  I love to try new things and experience the different flavors that life has to offer.  But, as we all know, there are only so many hours in a day, and only so much that can be experienced at the same time.  Sometimes to try something new, you have to give up on something old.

It sounds great right?  Something is not working like it was before, so you throw it away and get something better?  You only live once, so make sure that you live it right!  No one wants to look back at their life in regret of the actions that they did not take, or the experiences that they were too afraid to try.  It does take some courage to try something new, but that courage does not make you wise or righteous in having it.  In fact, you can be a fool if you do not first consider the circumstances around the “old” thing, at the time when it was “new”.  What was it that made the “old” thing so desirable in the first place?

I slowly raise my hand up to identify myself as one of those fools.  I was experiencing difficulty in my marriage.  In some ways, if I’m being honest, it felt like a terminal illness.  I was unhappy, and the only option I chose to see was the one that Brendan wished that I wouldn’t.  I gave up.  I threw both hands in the air and said:  ”I quit!”  I thought about my wife and my children and honestly believed that they would be happier to have a happier me.  That meant leaving.  I didn’t believe that my presence and perseverance were valuable enough to hold onto.  What I saw… was broken.  So I threw it away.

Then, I saw Brendan’s interview.  It shook me.  ”Why was it ok for me to give up?”  I kept asking myself.  But it was too late.  I had closed the door, sealed my fate, and turned the page.

But his words stayed with me.

The divorce continued.  She moved on.  I moved on.  Lawyers came in.  Assets and debts were divided.  Visitation schedules were drawn up.  Friends took sides.  Family members ached with their own sense of loss and betrayal.  And on May 6, 2009 it was finished.  The divorce was final.

And with that mutual goal of divorce being completed, something changed.  Something in our perception of reality.  We now faced a future together as co-parents of three wonderful children.  We were still “partners”.  In truth, our love for children is what brought us together in the first place.

We had poured out the bottle of our love for each other.  Every last drop was gone.  But as we looked closely at the bottle, we noticed the “CRV” near the bottom, in small print.  Cash Redemption Value.  Whoever created this bottle still wanted to use it.  Even after we had exhausted it’s contents.  We remembered when the bottle was first filled with our courtship and marriage.  We remembered praying together asking our Creator to create something beautiful with us.  We wondered if there was value still to be had from this bottle.  We wondered if we were worth redemption.

Now, as we attend counseling together, I see the value of holding on.  As we learn more about cognitive psychology together, we see our scotomas and acknowledge our limited perceptions.  We are creating a new vivid picture together and we are praying again for our Creator to fill the bottle.  It still has value.  WE still have value.

I share Brendan’s answer on what makes him sad, for myself.  Not every situation is like mine.  There is necessary growth in life and sometimes we must let go to grow.  But now that I have this chance again to create something beautiful, I’m holding on.

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John Mayer has a lot of soul, in my opinion, and he showed it today without saying a word.  I don’t own any of his albums, and I don’t know who he is dating.  I just felt something real from this tribute at Michael Jackson’s memorial service today.

I really want my website to be a place where we can talk about what it means to be human.  For this season, this will be my theme song.

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Jonathan from "The Neverending Story II"

One of the joys of parenthood for me is exposing my children to movies from my childhood that resonated with me.  I’m not sure if I’m just trying to share my early joys and excitement from films with them, or if it is some sort of devious attempt at creating little Zac clones, one 90 minute bite at a time.  Regardless, our latest film was “The NeverEnding Story“, from 1984.  It’s the story of Bastian and his alter ego:  Atreyu, and how he fights the nothing by continuing to dream and hope for things that seem impossible and fantastic (leaning on the “fantasy” root of this word).  We found the DVD at Wal-Mart, and to my surprise and delight, it included the sequel:  “The NeverEnding Story II“.

It always seemed odd to me that a movie with a title like “The NeverEnding Story” would have a sequel, as I kept watching the film over and over, keeping with the “neverending” theme.  My children did not particularly like the sequel, and instead asked me if they could just watch the original film again (and again, and again….. my plan is working!  Ahem.)  I did not enjoy the sequel either, but I did notice the fact that it was one of the breakthrough roles for young actorJonathan Brandis.

I remembered Jonathan from his roles in Ladybugs and Sidekicks, not to mention the NBC series Seaquest DSV.  He was kind of a hearthrob in my pre-teen and early teenage years for most of the girls around me.  I must admit that my haircut in 7th grade was largely influenced by Mr. Brandis:

Me in 7th grade

Jonathan and his sweet hair

Some of my friends lovingly referred to this as the “butt cut” due to the clear part down the middle.  My hair did not have the body that his had, so I didn’t fully succeed with my imitation.  It was a look that I admired, and he was someone whom I admired.  He was four years older than me, which made him infinitely cooler than me, but also seemed to give me something to shoot for, as I matured.  He seemed to have it all:  good looks, good health, a successful movie career, and lots of famous friends.  It was an enviable situation for most boys who grew up in Generation Y.

After SeaQuest, his acting career started to slip from the heights of sharing the screen with Chuck Norris.  He was no longer cast as the lead in movies, and quickly fell into the background of movies that were themselves in the background of the American pop culture consciousness.  He said that he wanted to start writing movies, but found that it did not “pay the mortgage”.  He began to drink a little more, and looked to figure out what his next step in life would be.  On November 12, 2003, Jonathan’s friends found his body hanging from a nylon cord in his apartment complex.  He was 27.

I was so saddened to hear this, and especially surprised that I didn’t hear about it until late 2007. His autopsy report showed that he had no drugs and only a .03 alcohol content in his system.  He left no suicide note.  Jonathan’s role in the Bruce Willis movie Hart’s War had been cut out, and his friends were aware of how much this hurt him. I can’t image what pain his parents went through at that time and what they still go through each day, knowing that Jonathan should still be with them.

Years of research in cognitive psychology field has yielded a lot of data about how our performance follows after our thoughts of ourselves.  I am fascinated by this and continue to learn more about this through my work with The Pacific Institute.  I wonder how much of what Jonathan thought of himself had to do with his career as an actor.  I wonder how much his financial situation took a toll on his psyche.  I wonder what it would be like to have to compare your success level to… yourself, at a younger age.

My favorite part of the first “Neverending Story” movie is when Atreyu looks into the Magic Mirror and sees Bastian.  Engywook, a helpful gnome tells Falcor, the luck dragon, about the Magic Mirror:

Engywook:
Nonsense!  You don’t understand anything!  The worst one is coming up.  Next is the Magic Mirror gate.  Atreyu has to face his true self.

Falkor:
So what?  That won’t be too hard for him.

Engywook:
Oh!  That’s what everyone thinks.  But kind people find that they are cruel, brave men discover that they are really cowards.  Confronted with their true selves most men run away screaming!

After reading this in his book, Bastian throws the book across the room, not believing it to be true.  It is nearly impossible for him to believe that he could share the same identity as Atreyu, the brave warrior.  In my 29 years, I’ve been encouraged to believe that anything is possible, if you put your mind to it.  It was a phrase that screamed potential for greatness and success.  Now, more than ever, I still believe this.  But I now understand the potential for destruction that goes along with putting your mind towards something, or letting your mind get put towards something that you do not intend it to.

We all have great potential.  It begins in our minds.  I am more and more conscious of my thoughts each day.  What are you thinking about?

Rest in peace Jonathan.  Your life continues to speak to me.

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Self taken photo of Kathy in 2009.

A few short months ago, I was “accidentally” introduced to Kathy Grimes.  She facilitated a training seminar at my new company, The Pacific Institute.  I say “accidentally”, because she was called in at the last minute due to a scheduling conflict with the original facilitator.  The next three days would find us closely discussing our past, present, and future.  We had a strong spiritual connection, and she encouraged me often.  From there, it grew to a business partnership and quickly a familial friendship.

After lots of phone calls and emails about develping a business plan together, she invited us into her home to be closer.  That is exactly what happened.  Although we spent most of our days on growing our business, our nights were filled with great food, better conversation, and tons of laughter.  One night, after a particularly good meal, I commented to Kathy that the food was so good that I wanted to “sew my ass shut”.  It was a quote from a TV show, but it was an especially appropriate time to quote it.  We laughed until we cried and tried to figure out a way to work that phrase into our business plan.  Fortunately, we were unsuccessful.

On Monday, March 23, 2009, Kathy laid down to take a nap, and never woke up.  She died of a massive heart attack without any signs o struggle.  She was 62.  She taught me so much about loving family and loving life in a tragically short amount of time.  I know that our business will soar with her spirit guiding us.  At her memorial today, Sean read an email that Kathy had shared with her husband just the week before.  It was a breakdown of the word “guidance”.  Life often times feels like dancing with God.  When life us good, it is as if we are dancing in His rhythm.  The “g” stands for “God”, the “u” stands for “you”, and the “i” stands for “I”.  Together, that word paints a picture of God, you, and I dancing.  It was beautiful.  So was Kathy.  Thank You God for blessing me with so many real moments with her.

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