Sunday, October 13, 2013

The Cab Of A Pick-Up

The cab of a pick-up hosts the stage for the story of my life.  Profoundly appropriate I suppose since I was born into a car dealing family in South Texas.  Two years ago today I found myself in a peculiarly uncomfortable, yet familiar place.  There were two people in this pick-up, Gayland and me.  For the first time in any relationship, I was riding shotgun next to the man at the wheel.  (In all other relationships, I was always the driver and that never, ever worked!)  He was looking through a clear windshield focused on the road ahead, while my eyes were securely fixed in the rear view mirror looking at the disaster my life had been behind me.  All I could think about was what we were heading for in the following week…marriage. 

We knew we were about to embark on the biggest adventure of our lives but very few others did.  Perhaps this only magnified the anxiety I felt, only having a select few to talk with about my apprehension and fear of committing to someone for the second time.  I vividly remember talking with him about my angst, expressing as eloquently as I could that I was scared once we dove into holy matrimony everything would change and we would not only fall out of love, we might not like each other too after the wedding was over.  His response was simple yet pure perfection, “And what if our future is better than we can ever imagine?”  The thought of everlasting happiness had never entered my mind.  That goes to show the baggage I carried around for so many years!  No wonder my back always hurt!

He was right and I left the baggage in the Dominican Republic.  It has been better than I could have EVER, EVER imagined, every mountain we’ve climbed, every valley we’ve hiked through and every obstacle we’ve successfully overcome, I wouldn’t change a thing!  It has honestly been the best two years of my entire life.

As we approach our second wedding anniversary in less than a week, I sit with him, in the “cab of our pick-up”, with sweet Baby Elyse in the back seat squealing, flailing her arms, kicking her perfect feet holding tight to his hand, thanking God every moment that he gave me this man, this child, and a clear windshield to look through at the long and glorious road ahead.