In the spotlight of our victories, it is easy to think of ourselves as the sole champion of our triumphs; the captain of our destiny. But, if we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that is rarely the case. That has certainly been true for me. Throughout my life I have often been guided toward the successful and righteous path by direction given to me by countless mentors. As such, I realize that we are all seldom the singular arbiter of our successes and accomplishments.
I couldn’t imagine my life being as full or productive as it has been without the support and backing of Stephanie, my wife of fifty years, who celebrates her birthday next week. In my heart I know that underlying the mountain of successes, victories, and blessings I have accumulated is the foundation that she has given me throughout our many years together.
Thomas Merton, one of my most admired life teachers, once wrote, “The beginning of love is to let those we love to be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise, we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.” That is a lesson Steph has repeatedly taught me; sometimes gently, sometimes not. Call me slow-to-learn, but her effort in this regard remains still needed today, far more often than it is appreciated.
There is a cute story told about Mark White who was the governor of Texas from 1983-1987 that finely illustrates my thoughts of my lovely wife this week:
Governor White and his wife were driving through the open Texas countryside having culled out personal time for a relaxing country drive mixed with the opportunity to converse and enjoy each other’s company. This day, they just happened to pick a route that brought them to the area where Mrs. White grew up. Needing to gas up, they pulled into a local filling station.
Mark detected a bit of nervousness in his wife’s demeanor. When the gas attendant came out to the car, the governor quickly surmised what was going on. Both his wife and the attendant looked surprised to see each other, and they acted with that awkwardness that two people have when they’ve been close in the past but aren’t anymore.
Governor White pretended not to notice.
After leaving the gas station and continuing their drive down the highway, their mutual silence was overpowering. Mrs. White kept looking out of the window, staring off into the distance. Mark remained considerate and patient with this silence and remained mum as he drove. But, after nearly an hour immersed in this mutual hush, the Governor just couldn’t put off breaking the silence.
“Honey, I couldn’t help but notice how you and that gas station attendant looked at each other. You were involved with each other at one point, weren’t you,” he asked?
“Well, yes,” she responded quietly.
“I know how you feel. You’ve probably been thinking about that over this past hour and need some space right now. Am I correct,” he inquired?
“Yes,” she answered.
“My sense is that you were probably thinking about how different your two lives had become. I guess that you were thinking that if you had married him, then you’d be the wife of a gas station attendant now, instead of my wife, right,” he asked?
“Honestly, no,” she abruptly replied. “Actually, I was thinking that he’d be the governor now.”
Women have served all these centuries as looking glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size. – Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own
Have an AWE-full Weekend and Happy Birthday, my love!
William “Bill” Bacque