I first saw her in Patty Cobb cafeteria on the Harding campus. She took my breath away. She still does. I kept spotting her after that -- sometimes by accident; at other times on purpose. I saw her alone at a seminar on evangelism at the College Church. (I never said anything to her. What's the right pick-up line for an evangelism conference? Perhaps some -- BOONE, QUILE, ELLIOTT -- can leave suggestions in the comments.) I saw her at the Lily Pool devotionals. I watched her play volleyball (in tight jeans, as I vaguely recall). Twenty-seven years ago today we were married at the Westside Church of Christ in Searcy. Dwaine Powell, my former roommate, performed the ceremony, meaning that the oldest person on the stage was 22. The truth? It's been hard at times. We both had "issues" to deal with; we spent too much time mad at each other; we went years with little sleep (during Megan's ten years of life); and we couldn't find each other in the fog of grief for a couple years after Megan's death. AND YET . . . we now have the marriage we always wanted. We got here only by tying a knot in the rope and holding on during some of the hard years. But even during the hard years, she took my breath away. May 11, 1978 was a very good day. This one is even better.