For many years, I served as an elementary school custodian, taking care of the building and meeting the needs of the faculty and students. It was a demanding job, but I truly loved it. My love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service, so this role suited my personality perfectly. While there were moments of frustration, everyone knew I cared deeply about them.
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I was talking to my brother Wes while waiting for my daughter Jessie and my wife Cassie to land at the airport. They were returning from visiting family in Texas. I asked Wes how his life path might have been different if he had not decided to go to the high school where our dad taught.
For years, my dad was a math teacher at East High School in Salt Lake City, Utah. A few of my siblings struggled at the high school near our home. My parents asked if they wanted a fresh start at a different high school, and they eagerly agreed.
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