I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I do not know
any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
PABLO NERUDA
The most magical things can have the humblest of beginnings.
The magic of my love story with Mark began with my feet in a bucket of water. Not the most glamorous of images, I know, but a girl needs a pedicure every now and then!
I had recently moved back to Los Angeles after wrapping nine seasons of Touched by an Angel. I was being very prayerful and thoughtful about the next steps in my career. I didn’t want to plunge ahead without God’s gentle guidance. It was a time of great soul-searching and of discovering a deeper sense of self, now free of the attention that had rained down on me during the success of Touched by an Angel. For nine years, I had been in the limelight, on countless magazine covers, doing daytime and nighttime talk shows, walking the red carpet, and receiving accolades and awards. I had tried very hard to stay grounded and in gratitude during that time; but the truth is, when it all goes away, it can feel very quiet. The silence can be deafening. In my industry, you can be recognized as one of People magazine’s “Most Beautiful People in the World” one year, and the next year get no public attention at all. If you don’t have a strong sense of self or a spiritual life, you can feel adrift and lost. If you don’t have a sense of humor, the lack of attention can be painful. And let’s face it, if you allow yourself to be defined by what you do, then it raises the question, Who are you when you aren’t doing that?
Most of us know in our heads that our sense of self should not be dependent on what we do or how we look. But in real life, that’s hard to pull off. I look at my daughter and her friends, and it pains me to see the pressure these girls feel to be thin or beautiful. Our culture puts such an unhealthy emphasis on looking a certain way in order to be loved or valued.
I know firsthand how illusory beauty is. Over the years I appeared on magazine covers, but it wasn’t me just showing up with that kind of beauty. There was always a hair and makeup team and a stylist selecting beautiful clothes.
But young women don’t realize how fake this beauty is. They see it and think they should look that way.
I wanted to instill in Reilly an appreciation for real beauty. Real beauty is of the heart; it’s the glow that lights your face when you are doing something kind, it’s the tears you cry in appreciation of someone else’s pain. Real beauty is kindness, gratitude, love.
If you get too attached to being beautiful on the outside, what happens when that “beauty” starts to fade? As we naturally age, fear can start to emerge. It can be a painful struggle, and I am not immune to this fear. Fear of letting go of that illusion of beauty. Fear of no longer being valued and accepted.
But the real freedom is to be found in letting go of fear. Letting go of the need to look a certain way, to be accepted by the masses. Who you are is perfect. God made you that way. He loves who you are becoming on the inside. This body will fade away. That’s what it was made to do.
Your heart and spirit will be with you forever.
If we can remember this, fear dissolves.
Consider Mother Teresa, a woman who aged gracefully and didn’t let it slow her down. Her beauty was apparent until the day she died. It glowed in the warmth of her smile as she helped God’s people. She was radiant. She emitted a light that you cannot buy in a bottle.
She displayed the true beauty of grace, compassion, and love.
I knew that this time in Malibu—in between my role as Monica and whatever God had planned for me next—was an important season of growth . . . a time of letting go of the experience of Touched by an Angel and the deep connection I had to playing and being Monica, and a time of expanding and deepening my understanding of self and trusting in God for whatever was next. In fact, I discovered a beautiful sense of freedom after we moved back to Malibu and I enrolled Reilly in the local grade school. I loved being Mom at the park and queen of the carpool and living a normal life. I didn’t know what was next, but I knew God would guide me.
One afternoon, Della came over for lunch. And in her sweet, direct way, she said, “Are you lonely, baby? Isn’t it time you trusted your heart to love again?”
Well, I felt very happy with my life the way it was. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s hard to meet quality guys,” I said, shaking my head.
“Well, honey, it’s simple. You’ve got to hand it over. You have to ask God to choose a partner for you.”
I laughed. It was simple, but I hadn’t ever thought of that. I’d never really thought to ask God to choose for me.
Della said, “Well, think about what you want, and you bring that to God. Don’t pray it over and over. Pray it once, and then just trust.”
As usual, Della, the great loving and wise woman, was guiding me in a way that I am so thankful for.
And so I took some time to think about what I truly wanted in a man. I would be mindful of those qualities and pay attention. I wanted a man who would be strong and caring, a man to love me and my daughter, and a man who loved God. I wanted a man who was kind and loving and funny. I wanted a good man, an honest man, a man with integrity. I wanted him to be smart and to have his own success so there wouldn’t be anything competitive between us. I wanted a man who would make me feel safe. I wanted him to love kids, and I wanted him to share my love of the ocean, of Ireland . . . to be honest, it was a long list!
And then I took a moment and picked up my list and handed it over to God. “God, this is what I think I need, but I didn’t choose well in the past, so all I ask is that you let me know when he gets here.”
So on an ordinary afternoon, a few months later, I was getting a pedicure in a salon. And as I sat there with my feet in a bucket of water, wearing a tracksuit with an elastic waistband, for goodness’ sake, I noticed a man getting his hair cut across the room from me. His back was to me, but I noticed him because he was laughing a lot and generally being pretty noisy. My eyes caught his in the mirror, and my heart started to race. I mean, it was racing. I couldn’t ignore it. And I thought, Really? Is this happening?
I quickly looked away, embarrassed that he had caught me watching. But I looked up again, and our eyes met again. I felt my cheeks heat. He was so handsome and joyful. Again I thought, Really, is that him? and I stared back down at my book. I had never reacted this way to seeing someone before. It was a physical reaction, like my body was trying to let me know . . . something is happening here. Pay attention.
I couldn’t help myself. My eyes were drawn back to the mirror one more time. And yet again, he was looking at me!
I vowed not to make that mistake again.
A few minutes later, his haircut was finished, he spent a few moments checking out with the receptionist, and he was gone.
When my nails were dry, I carefully put on my flip-flops and walked up to the same checkout desk.
My curiosity got the best of me.
“Excuse me,” I said to the receptionist, casually. “But do you happen to know the name of the man who just walked out of here?”
She looked at me with a smile. “Oh, isn’t that funny,” she said, “he just asked me who you were.”
We laughed together, and she told me his name was Mark Burnett. He was local, but originally from the UK; he was divorced with two little kids and was a producer of reality TV.
I thanked her for letting me know and wondered when he might show back up in my life. He certainly had piqued my interest.
A few days later, I got a call from that receptionist. Mark had called the salon and asked if they might give him my number. She, of course, wanted to check with me first, before giving out personal information.
I said, “Yes, please give him my number!”
Shortly after that, she called back again.
“Yes?” I said, confused.
“I’m sorry to bother you again, but he wanted me to ask whether you would say yes if he called and asked you out?” the receptionist said with a laugh, probably feeling a bit like a schoolyard go-between, stuck back in the seventh grade.
I had to admit, I found it kind of adorable that he had her call and ask me that. I told her she could give him my number; of course I was going to say yes!
Well, a few moments later, he called, we went out, and I soon realized that this was it. My love had arrived.
Our first date was a Stevie Wonder concert at the House of Blues. Mark and I hit it off immediately. We both came from the same corner of the world, were born the same year, were both divorced with young children of a similar age (he had two boys, I had my little girl). We were both self-made, working in the same field. We lived on the same beach, drove the same car, laughed at the same jokes. It was better than anything I had ever experienced. It was the kind of love I knew could last my entire life.
We were married in a small ceremony presided over by Della, with just our new little family in attendance, and Mark’s dad, Archie, and stepmom, Jean. Our oldest boy, James, served as best man; our little boy, Cameron, as ring bearer; and my beautiful Reilly was my bridesmaid. It was not just the marriage of two people but the coming together of a family of five. It felt like it was meant to be. Each child got to keep his or her position in the family. James was still the oldest, Cameron still the youngest, Reilly still the only girl.
We said our vows under a beautiful arbor in our backyard, where I had entwined three silk butterflies to represent my parents and Mark’s mom, our angels in attendance. But they also made their presence known in other ways. That morning, as Mark and I gazed out at the ocean, saying prayers of gratitude for the special day that was under way, three butterflies fluttered right in front of us, a sign of God’s presence and our loved ones’ spirits. When Della arrived, she carried with her an ornate purse with butterflies embroidered on it. And finally, later in the day, despite the fact that we hadn’t shared the news of our wedding with any of our friends, planning instead to send a marriage announcement after the fact, a gift arrived via FedEx, and within was a picture frame with three butterflies in the corner.
God made it clear that He was with us and blessing us with this day.
We had such a lovely time creating a new family from our five disparate parts. I love kids and had always wanted more children, and here I had these two beautiful young boys in my life! James and Cameron are a blessing to me. We certainly had to make some adjustments—Reilly had to learn to play with the boys and be a part of a larger family, since it had been just the two of us for so long. And the boys had to learn what it was like to have a sister in their lives. I’ll never forget one morning, a few months after we were married, when everyone was rushing around, getting ready for school. Reilly and I were walking down the stairs as Mark was trying to get James and Cameron to find their backpacks, and in Mark’s noisy fashion, he used a louder tone than Reilly was accustomed to with me. She looked at me and said, “Mom, I can’t believe you fell in love with a military man!”
Oh, how I laughed. Mark had served time in the British military, which I know impacted the man he is today and how he handles himself, but to hear my little girl put it that way just cracked me up. We still laugh about it today.
Now, of course, all three of our lovely children are grown, and Mark and I are practically empty nesters. They are each following their own dreams. Reilly is back east at college studying theater, James recently graduated and is pursuing his love of the music business, and Cameron is in film school. It is so special to see them all making their way in the world, pursuing their dreams; but we’re so happy when they take the time to come back home so we can be together as a family—as we know not to take family for granted.
As I look back, I know I got the family I’d always dreamed of; but I also got so much more. For Mark and I became not just husband and wife together, not just parents together, not just best friends, although all of those have made me happier than I could ever have dreamed. Mark and I also became business partners. We had the privilege of making The Bible together—it was a large, challenging undertaking but also a project that came to affect so many people. We went on to create our production company, LightWorkers Media, and produced many TV series and films together. We truly believe God brought us together to create such projects and bring them into the world, to shine a light for such a time as this. God’s plans are so much bigger than we could have imagined. Isn’t that always the case? Our vision can be small, while He is working things together for a greater good, the ultimate good. Our partnership has helped to deepen our marriage and our friendship. We are so grateful that, with God’s help, we found each other.
Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPÉRY
The love I share with Mark is the love I’ve always dreamed of receiving. He loves me the way I always wanted to be loved. One story provides a great example of this. About ten years ago, all five of us were in Australia together as a family. The boys were thirteen and nine, and Reilly was about ten. And as we wandered the streets of Sydney, we saw a little painting in the window of an art gallery. I don’t remember who saw it first, but we were all soon gathered around this window, marveling at this particular piece of art. It was a small painting of a dog that looked just like our great big Irish wolfhound, Finn. And surrounding the dog were three butterflies.
Of course my entire family knows how much I love butterflies and how symbolic they have been in my life. We all marveled at the dog’s resemblance to Finn, and how there were three butterflies, one for each of the children.
After a bit of conversation and much laughter, we kept walking, exploring the town.
That afternoon, as we went back to the hotel for a rest, I sneaked back to the little gallery. It was June, and Mark’s birthday was in July. I wanted to get the painting for him as a birthday surprise.
If God only used perfect people, nothing would get done. God will use anybody if you’re available.
RICK WARREN
When I got back to the hotel with the painting, the kids were lying around a tad jet-lagged, reading and relaxing, and Mark was in the other room on the phone. So I quietly showed the kids my surprise, and then quickly buried it in the bottom of my suitcase.
The next month, as I handed Mark his present, he opened it with care and then looked up at me with delight when he saw what was inside.
“I can’t believe it!” he said, with a laugh.
“I know, I just had to get it for you,” I said, remembering our trip and our family’s joy in the discovery.
“No, no, you don’t understand,” Mark said, shaking his head with a smile. “I went back the next day to buy the painting for you because you had loved it so much. But it was already gone.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. Cameron piped in at this point.
“He took me with him, and I had to pretend I didn’t know you had already bought it!” he said.
Mark’s eyes met mine. We smiled and laughed, that we had each had this same instinct to do something loving for the other one. It reminded me of that lovely O. Henry story “The Gift of the Magi.” She sells her hair to buy him a chain for his watch, but he has sold his watch to buy beautiful combs for her hair. I know without a doubt that love is a verb. Anyone can say the words “I love you,” but love is an action. Mark and I had the same loving instinct for each other.
This is how good love can be.
I sometimes marvel at the blessings in my life, but none more than my partnership with Mark. It was always my greatest dream to find someone who loved me the same way I loved him. I have that in Mark.
Thank you, God.
The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.
RUMI
My children, our love should not be only words and talk. Our love must be true love. And we should show that love by what we do.
1 JOHN 3:18 (ICB)