My Man

1980. Gold medal in hockey up for grabs at the Lake Placid Winter Olympics. The "Miracle on Ice." Russia. USA. 

Labor pains. A hospital run. 

Kathy. Tom. 

A beautiful young woman and her loving husband were waiting on their miracle. And as the United States brought the thunder down on Russia stealing the gold away from their hands, Brian Thomas Davis was born. God brought the thunder to this young couple. They even called him Thunder Foot a few years later because Brian Davis has never been able to do anything lightly, not even toddle.

He was wild. Jumping off the tops of play-sets. Building flying contraptions at a young age. Hammering buckets of nails into the first family home. Climbing mountains. Riding down the road on the outside of the family van. Tearing up the baseball and soccer field. A baller on the court. Athletic feet with an engineer's brain.

Busy. Focused. Opinionated. Confident.

And a frequent visitor to the ER.

Bless that beautiful young woman who raised him with such strength. She taught him to persevere, to fight through pain, to work hard, to never stop learning, to care for the "critters," to love cookie dough and all things from the Polish cuisine. Kielbasa, pierogi, sauerkraut, and the infamous Bobka. She made him cute jammies that matched his daddy's. She read books galore with him. She helped him with homework. She made him quilts and held his hand when he got his stitches. She loved him so well.

And that loving husband turned out to be one incredible father. He taught his namesake how to build, how to climb, how to work hard for his family. He taught him how to eat the middle moist part of the cake first. He taught him to love undercooked Bobka. He taught him philosophy. He taught him computers. He taught him how to be a gentlemen and a man of class. He coached ball teams, and he shared his love for golf.  He wore jammies to match his boys. He wrestled. He bartered. He provided. He gave. He loved.

Amazing parents made for one amazing man.

That little boy grew up, gave his life to Christ, and strives daily to know Him more and make Him known among the nations.

Brian's seen the world. He's loved people from many different countries. And 100s have been drawn to him and his love for God.

He's lead his family with strength, gentleness, kindness, and so much love. He makes daily sacrifices for us. He changes diapers. (He's really good at it, too.) He vacuums, mops, and helps with dishes. He makes us the best cookie dough you've ever had (seriously). He makes us daddy biscuits that just melt in your mouth. He brings me coffee in the morning (love). He's an amazing golfer, photographer, athlete, and teacher of the Word. He dances like the cutest white boy you've ever seen, and he makes us all smile. He prays over us and for us. He navigates our way through new countries. He gives amazing hugs. He is still the champion in the Davis wrestling matches. He tears up when he tells us how much he loves us. He leads us to know more of our Savior. He does all this and more while continuing to love and serve others outside of our family. He loves radically, serves diligently, and disciples others (including his children and me) passionately.

 

He's the son of amazing and wise parents. He is redeemed and loved by the Creator of the universe. He's a phenomenal, engaging father. He is a tender and precious husband. He's a kind and loyal friend.


I fear I take him for granted too often. I forget that not all men are so giving as he. I forget that he is a gift made just for me and these babies. I sometimes miss how he lives out Ephesians 5:25 for me. He loves me as Christ loves the church and gave Himself up for her. Brian exemplifies this kind of self-sacrificing, beautiful, radical love to me every day. And my biggest regret would be to not let him know how very thankful I am for him, this miracle in my life. This man. My gold medal.





And so today, on his birthday (while he sits far away in Thailand. Sad face.). I want him to hear it loud and clear: Thank you! I don't know where we'd be without you! You are my dream come true, and I love doing life with you. I love 'dancing in the minefields' with you. You are precious to our family. You are cherished. My words could never express how very much I love you. I'm so thankful for that night in 1980 in Ridgewood, NJ when you came into the world.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I LOVE YOU!!!