Rhiannon had an embarrassingly large crush on Christopher for two years of their high school career. She was a cheerleader assigned to Christopher, the bigshot kicker, to get him gameday gifts. It went as far as a sack of potatoes, a whole pineapple, and a Lion's sweatshirt on sale for $30. The enticing gifts must have worked because at the end of their senior year of high school, they officially started dating. After almost three years of dating, Christopher decided to propose on a cold and drizzly day in March. Rhiannon and Christopher have been beyond blessed by the Lord and ask that you continue to pray for their marriage for decades to come.

On a cold December day, there was born of his mother’s womb a third male, for whom the prophecy foretold two certainties: death and taxes. On this 365th day of the year, there seemed no destiny, no limits, no bounds on this child—except gravity. His fate lay in his hands. What would come of him would be out of his will.

As a babe, he was nursed by his mother, tomatoes, and peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches. Growing strong on a diet of love, humor, and unspoken adventure, young Christopher’s world was filled with wonder.

By age five, he was already plotting his first great feat: become Batman. While others would hesitate, pondering the consequences of failing, Christopher simply asked, “Why not?” And so he proceeded, wearing the same Batman costume every single day, - except on sunday when he wore his suit. In his cape and boots, he defeated the villains of youth with unprecedented speed and power. From that day on, it was clear: this was a boy destined to push limits.

As he grew, so did his thirst for knowledge, for adventure, and for understanding how the world worked—or didn’t. Where others saw rules, Christopher saw puzzles. Where others saw impossibilities, he saw opportunities for growth. He never feared the unknown in that abyss of destiny, but embraced it, welcoming the mysteries it would bring.

School was a challenge, not because he lacked intellect, but because Christopher could never quite sit still long enough for traditional instruction. He preferred the road less traveled—those paths that led to questions, curiosity, and a refusal to settle for mediocrity. "Why settle for what is when you can create what could be?" he'd often ponder, his mind always ahead of the many. As school came and went, he learned, he grew, and so that of his will.

His teenage years? Ah, a chapter of rebellion and discovery, where every rule became a suggestion and every boundary an invitation to break it. But even in his most defiant moments, there was something larger at play. A quiet confidence that, despite his chaotic path, would always lead him to the right place at the right time.

Through the years, Christopher would face the inevitable certainties foretold in the prophecy: death—though he never shied away from its shadow, but rather, danced with it, never letting it hold sway over him, like a long lost friend—and taxes—well, they were a bit less exciting but equally unavoidable. Yet, despite these looming certainties, Christopher refused to be defined by them. Though his will may have been tamed by both, never conquered, and never categorized.

What the prophecy failed to reveal was the greatest adventure he would be presented with. Throughout his many adventures, Christopher discovered that only two forces surpassed him in both mystery and the inability to comprehend: God and women. There was one woman, however, whose beauty, grace, and mystery evoked the feeling of wonder in Christopher. Fair-skinned, gentle, abundant in life; this woman became the undying object of his will. This woman, whose name and language will be conquered, just as the land and its people were, the Divine Queen would not use her greatness for power or her own will, but for that of the Father’s. Her beauty and glory embraced the divine light as a church window, making discernable the will of God, and the need for grace. THERE IS NO GREATER GIFT!

This woman for whom rhyme and meter can't contain, song and dance can't refrain, whose words and wonder are enough, to make this man of will feel loved. Great is she! But for her gift to us, a reward? What reward would match the magnitude and breadth of her being? Nay. That only God could reward this muse it seems.

Her reward? A cross. A devotion unto death.

Two years and ten months, she swore before Him that created all, that her life she will devote to him whose prophecy foretold death and taxes. On that day, may there be merry, dance, and joy for all to have, as death and taxes await them.