Once upon a time

Once upon a time, not so long ago, a handsome cowboy lived in the high country of Colorado. He wasn't alone in the mountains. Not at all. He had a wonderful wife and four fantastic kids. As families do, the kids grew up and moved out of the family home. They married and had families of their own. One day, the wife became ill. Through ups and downs, but more illness than health, the wife died. They had a long and happy life together, but now the cowboy was left alone. 

In the Piedmont area of North Carolina, a librarian could be found. She had a kind and caring husband, and two boys. As families do, the boys grew up and moved out of the family home. They made lives for themselves as sons do. One day, the husband became ill, and in a whirlwind of quick illness, he died. They had a long and happy life together, but now the librarian was left alone. 

At this point, I'm not sure where you the reader would like to go with this story. Do you want one that explains the pain and the heartache? One where the cowboy and librarian each come to grips with their loss? Where decisions are purposely made to move forward? What about the times that were terribly difficult? The times when putting one foot in front of the other meant success. The days and nights when they slipped and fell back into agonizing loneliness.

Or we could just jump to the happy part. The part where the cowboy and the librarian take a leap of faith and began a conversation. Simple, sweet, direct. 

The cowboy and the librarian were both alone, and God orchestrated a meeting. Neither knew that they would meet each other, but God knew. God knew that in faith, one would offer their heart with a hello. God knew that in equal faith, the other would respond. God knew. He knew exactly where those first trusting words would end. He knew they would end with, I love you.