In our lives, we all have heroes. People whom we aspire to emulate. Unfortunately, the term "hero" is used too loosely these days. "Thanks for the coffee! You're my hero." Or "That professional athlete is my hero." Or "Ferris Beuller, you're my hero."
A real hero, however, is someone who puts others before themselves. They are someone who makes sacrifices to enrich the lives of those around them. Heroes don't wear costumes or have a genetic mutation which provides super powers. Their cape is their heart, and their super power is selflessness. There is no beacon in the sky to call upon their help, for they are always there, offering assistance before you even know you need it. Heroes don't seek our praise or financial reimbursement. They usually do what they do quietly and unnoticed. Moving silently in the shadows, they offer our lives the warmth of light.
Today, I celebrate my hero, my wife, Gina. She has saved me through her love, faith, care and strength. I often times feel like the Lois Lane to her Superman; being rescued countless times with her compassion and patience, and never realizing that my hero was standing next to me the whole time in plain clothes. She does not wear an "S" on her chest, but she is identified easily by the ring on her left hand. And she has swooped in to rescue me many times from my most infamous nemesis: myself. She has reassured my doubt, lifted me high when I have stumbled, and offered up prayers when I was weak.
She is my wife, friend, mother to my children, my sacrament. To others who know her, she is mother, daughter, sister, aunt, niece, cousin, friend, youth minister, confidant. To strangers, she has been a warm meal, fresh clothes, and a prayer companion.
But to everyone who meets her, she is simply "hero."
Happy birthday, Gina. I love you!
