2003-07-23 - 2:06 a.m.

[ mood | thoughtful ]

[ music | Boondock Saints Soundtrack, "The Blood of Cuchulainn" ]

One of these days, I'm going to figure out how to post what I write here simultaneously in Diaryland, without a lot of copying and pasting. But for now, that's what I'll do.

Almost a month has passed since the wedding, and I find myself being very reflective. Not just of the time with my wife, but the time before... when the world was new and it was mine to explore. I remember the feeling of invincibility. I was finally free of what had held me back from a larger world and I was loving it. Walking those tree-shaded pathways, looking for that beat-up sedan, reflecting on the nature of God and my relationship with Him... sometimes it feels like yesterday, and sometimes a lifetime ago.

I learned a lot. Lessons in humility, in maturity, and most of all in love. I learned you can't turn off your feelings for someone like you're turning off the lights, as much as you might want to. I learned that no matter how much you love someone, you cannot lead them someplace they are unable, unwilling, or unready to go. And I learned that God doesn't let things happen without having a reason... that we may not understand it for a long time, maybe even a lifetime, but sooner or later, everything makes sense.

Now I'm sitting in a semi-cramped apartment, trying to ignore an imposing stack of bills, working shifts opposite my wife, and yet I still find myself walking tree-shaded pathways, looking for a beat-up sedan, and reflection on the nature of God and my relationship with Him. "The more things change, the more they remain the same."

"Some things never change."

Like Sting once wrote, I never make promises lightly, and there've been some that I've broken. But I am a firm believer that as inconstant as the heart might seem, when you open those doors and let someone in, some part of them always remains behind that you can never truly forget. And some leave bigger impressions than others.

Sometimes I see her staring at the walls, where the Word is written, and to this day, she struggles to understand. I pray someday she will... and if it be His will that I once again offer my hard-earned and battle-scarred wisdom, so be it.

"I wish none of this had happened."

"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

My bonnie lass will be home soon. And not too long after, I'll hold my daughter in my arms again and thank God for everything. And I do mean everything. Every scar and every kiss. Every tear and every laugh. Every hammer-blow and every tender touch. Every hurtful stare and every warming smile.

Because every single one has helped build the man that sits here tonight.

And, for maybe the first time in a long time... I'm proud to be me.

The time that is given to us.

(Link)