Well, sort of.
We're at the end of the Internet line, the spot where the kind folks at the telephone company say, "Yeeeeeeeeah. You're pretty far out there. Not so sure we can't really do anything about that . . ."
They sent a repairman out earlier this winter -- in the rain -- to fix our Internet. And today a different helpful gentleman came out to fix another problem.
In the course of the conversation, he asked how old Georgia was and commented on how cute her little round face is. After I told him, and as he repacked his bag of tech goodies, he told a little story:
I dated every girl out there, and a lot of them I shouldn't have. I didn't think there was much hope for me until I met my wife. We got married in 1993 and almost immediately got pregnant. We were just kids. We didn't know what we were doing. But halfway through the pregnancy, we found out that our baby wasn't developing the way she was supposed to. Her organs were forming outside her body. There was fluid on her brains and lungs.
He stopped for a second and looked at us from his position behind the furniture where he was fiddling with the modem.
I'm not sure why I'm telling you this. I just think about it every time I see a precious little baby like yours. Anyway, the doctor sat us down and told us to abort the baby. He said there was no chance she'd survive. I remember him looking across the table and saying, "Why are you putting your wife through this? Don't you love her? Abort this child!"
He shook his head.
We just couldn't. We figured God could work a miracle if He wanted to and that He would see us through. And He did, even though our daughter was born stillborn at 8 months. It was awful. We buried her ourselves near my grandmothers grave, basically at the end of my grandma's feet.
Then a pause.
No one should have to bury their child. No one should have to take a shovel and dig a hole for their baby. But you know? The Lord gave us two boys: 13 and 17. And they mean the world to us. They're such a blessing. I mean, some days they drive me nuts, but I love those boys.
By now he was heading toward the door.
And honestly, people today use the Internet too much anyway. I know I shouldn't say that. I'm in the Internet business. But just look outside, would you? The sun is shining. You're in the country! Why doesn't everyone just put their phones down and talk to each other on the front porch like they used to?
He opened the door and shook our hands and got in his truck and drove away.
Chris and I watched him go. He was like a breath of fresh air, a spokesman for life and family and values, and he didn't know us from the guy down the gravel road. He just told it like it he saw it and blessed us as he did so.
And just like we told him while he was in our house, through some tears of my own, well . . . we couldn't agree more.