Sarah and I are making our way home together. She's a terrific traveling companion. We started out on our shared journey nearly 19 years ago as a nation of two, but our party has swelled over the years and now we number seven. She serves and surprises our group of raucous pilgrims in ways essential and pleasant, and she loves us best because she loves God most.
Last night as I put Charlie to bed he began to cry a little because he wanted Mom and not me. This is how it always goes once the lights are turned out. He told me that Mom was his favorite, and I whispered back that she was my favorite too. For a long time we lay in the dark listing things we like about Sarah and neither of us felt betrayed that the other preferred her more.
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