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.
