October 27, 2001 vs. 80ft.

The battle wages.

Nine years ago today, Danny and I were married.

Nine years ago, it was a crisp October day, with bright blue skies.

Today, it is a warm, humid October day, with cloudy gray, raining skies.

Nine years ago, our families and friends were celebrating with us; toasting to our lives together. There was laughter, dancing, tears of joy and tenderness.

Today, we will celebrate by ourselves. There will be laughter and tears, but probably not any dancing.

There is a stark contrast to what was and what is.

So, where did the journey begin?

Did it begin in middle school when we first met? Did it begin after college when he first kissed me or when we got engaged? Did it happen on our wedding day or on August 16th, 2005 with 80ft.?

I get asked regularly what 80ft means. Literally, it was the distance of Danny’s skid mark where he tried to stop.

Figuratively, it means so much more.

80ft. marked the end of one life and the start of a new journey.

There is still a stark difference.

One journey, we chose and this one that started with 80ft, we didn’t.

The only thing we choose with this new life is to still do it together.

It certainly isn’t perfect, but it’s still ours. Only ours. There is no one else there at night when the thoughts become louder with the stillness of the dark. There is no one else that hears our deepest, hardest confessions.

It’s ours and it isn’t perfect, but what remains is that like when our original, planned journey began; I was the girl he chose and he was the boy that I chose.

Eventually, the clouds will pull apart like cotton and the bright blue sky will be revealed; like God’s hand pulling back the veil on the masterpiece of our lives.

God, let me find peace and trust in your craftsmanship.