My wife has given me some great gifts over the years. She has seriously upgraded my wardrobe. She has provided me with adventures like hot air ballooning and riding in the back of a plane during training runs. She’s written me love notes and given me collections of thematically-styled and professionally-photographed boudoir images. She’s given me the gift of her blessing or companionship on some of my life’s favorite adventures.
For the week leading into this Valentine’s Day (our 17th together as a dating, engaged, or married couple), she kept saying, “You’re going to love your Valentine’s gift,” and “I can’t wait to give you your gift this year.”
Candidly, that made me nervous—even after she handed me her phone.
Then, she hit play to this:
I wept. Tears dripped off my cheeks onto my lap. I laughed, too.
Yes, it was absurd that five dudes and my aunt collaborated on my Valentine’s gift. You might find it weird that something with only a small mention of romance would make this a chart topper. (The contributors probably did, too.)
Crystal, though, knew she had wife points in the bag.
10 years ago this month, at a conference in Alaska, I decided my life purpose was to participate in physical and spiritual adventures in such a way that others would be drawn to do the same. Pursuing that reality has led to some incredible moments in jaw-dropping places doing exciting activities with people who own real estate in my heart. Chasing that legacy has also cost me hours that I could’ve spent watching fun things on screen, working on my career, visiting extended family, dating my wife, traveling alone, writing blogs, or sleeping.
Candidly, I have days where divesting from my commitments looks like greener grass. Some days, I hate that my career’s busy seasons are during prime times to kayak, hang glide, and backpack in remote mountains. On other days, I get frustrated that I don’t have the finances to take my brother or close friends with me to places that will impact their lives. (Even more: the frustration of knowing my laziness or foolish choices are the primary reasons for that limitation.)
Crystal knew I needed to be reminded of my purpose. She knew I had let this winter be filled with self-doubt, uncertainty, and discontent. She had seen me dreaming of more, already living vicariously through the videos and photos of where I’ll be vacationing in August.
Unknowingly, she took me back to a hostel in Victoria, British Columbia. Nine of us had hiked the infamous West Coast Trail, and I had selfishly and immaturely caused some unnecessary drama in the group. (I had even dropped the F bomb on my pastor.)
After the trek, that same pastor led a debrief time in a crowded room of bunk beds, where we talked about the strengths of each person in the room. I heard eight men validate my personhood, my manhood, my contribution to this planet. It was one of the most powerful moments of my life.
Just like the moment I watched this video for the first time—next to my Valentine.
