It's difficult to keep track of how many acts of kindness were performed in his memory on Nov. 4. So many of you offer more than one. So many of you prefer anonymity.
Of course, the number doesn't really matter.
What matters is you're sharing joy and love and kindness.
What matters is you're helping create beautiful memories for Cooper and Katie, who read every single blog post about their daddy's birthday. They don't have the benefit of a lifetime of memories with Steve, but they will never forget that the way he lived his life continues to influence a whole community.
What matters is you're celebrating life and exercising faith even when all around us are symptoms of a broken world.
When Steve was first diagnosed and folks swooped in to help us, I worried about how I would repay everyone for their kindness.
Then I realized that there was no way I could.
Then I realized that no one expected me to.
It was a tough journey. Some days, to be honest, it still is. Gifts are not always easy to receive -- even the ones you need the most.
One of the greatest gifts from you all: I look forward to Steve's birthday more than most any other day of the year.
Of course, I wish beyond rational thought that Steve were still here with us to celebrate, that we would take him out to eat every Nov. 4, that he would open a gift or two, that he would tell stories of birthdays past, that he would blow out candles and make a wish for birthdays to come.
Short of that fantasy world, there's no better way to spend his birthday. Thank you, thank you, thank you for joining the party.
|Katie and Cooper this morning before church, on Steve's memorial bench|