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This article was originally published on The Gospel Coalition:
Confession: When I was a kid, I was in love with Ricky Schroder. He was the only one for me. (Except for a short hiatus after The Karate Kid, when Ralph Macchio was my all in all for a few months.) That tow-headed heartthrob who took my breath away with every episode of the 1980s sitcom Silver Spoons.
As much as I felt undying love for Ricky Schroder, I knew little about him. I didn’t have the opportunity to open my laptop (they didn’t yet exist) or turn on our home computer (we didn’t own one), hop on YouTube, and watch my future husband walk me through his breakfast choices, morning drive, and whimsical musings. I couldn’t check his Instagram for updates every hour or tweet at him with the real possibility he might tweet back. The best chance I had of communicating with him was writing a letter to his fan club. I never got a reply. I was crushed. If I would’ve found out he was a former Christian now identifying as agnostic, it would have broken my heart. But it wouldn’t have shaken my own faith.
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