When I was one month old, a baby boy was born about thirty miles from my hometown. Nineteen years later we met, and after thirty-one years, I can still see God's hand in it all. That boy's name is Steve, and today is his birthday.He remembers memories I've forgotten, encourages my Disney World obsession, and pretty much supports me in whatever I choose to do. He waits as I attempt to hit the golf ball over the ditch, had learned to endure my driving, and believes that one day I will actually finish a half-marathon in 2 and a half hours.
Some things were just meant to be. For me, it was a boy named Steve. Happy Birthday!
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