Nineteen Years|St. Augustine Getaway #Anniversary

At three years into our marriage, sometimes I didn't think we would make it. Grief had brought out the worst in us and threatened to tear us apart.

After experiencing the death of a dearly beloved family member in 2003, our marriage was about to shipwreck. We needed a lighthouse, a way to navigate around the dangers of conflict allowed to escalate beyond acceptable levels.

Pride has no place when two people promise to become one. In order for our marriage to survive, we needed to be humble enough to ask for help. That support came in the form of friends, family, our church, and marriage counseling. The lighthouse we needed was the grace of God, exemplified in Jesus Christ. God the Father always forgives us in light of Jesus who sacrificed Himself on the cross for our sins. If we believe this, we can forgive.

It was a fight to learn to stop fighting each other.

Five years later, by the grace of God, we came to terms of peace.

Halloween 2008

For our nineteenth wedding anniversary, we chose to immerse ourselves in Old Spanish Colonial Florida in St. Augustine. Having celebrated our anniversary here before, we were able to take stock in how far we've come in loving each other unconditionally.

Casa de Solana, the house of one of my ancestors

"Above all, love one another deeply" (1 Peter 4:8) 

Anastasia Island

In the middle of our rocky years, I never would have believed we could love each other again. I thank God for His amazing grace that keeps on shining His unconditional agape' love toward us, showing the way to peace.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit" (Romans 15:13). 

The Rise and Fall of The Senator

In 2007, our sprawling family trampled onto the boardwalk and into the thick of the Florida woods of Big Tree Park. We swatted mosquitoes and dodged low-hanging palmetto fronds. At the very end of the trail, towered a wonder to behold—The Senator, one of the oldest Bald Cypress trees in the world.

And, by old I mean B.C. (before the birth of Christ) on a historical timeline . Through the process of coring, a sample of the tree's rings was taken, dating the Senator to be about 3500 years old. Over millenia, the tree grew, adding new rings to its trunk. 

Before Florida became a tourist's paradise and one of the top states people move to, the Seminole Indians used this 160 foot high cypress tree as a landmark to find their way through swamps and endless palmettos and pine trees. They hid from U.S. soldiers who intended to capture and transport them to reservations outside the state. The Seminoles found refuge in the Everglades and eventually were granted six reservations in Florida.   

In the nineteenth century, this cypress became the beloved Senator of Big Tree Park. A devastating hurricane hit Florida in 1925. In the fierce winds, a large portion of the top snapped off, reducing it to a height of 126 feet.

Tragically, on January 16, 2012, the Senator's life was cut short by the careless actions of a young woman who that evening, set it ablaze.  The tree burned from the outside-in, billowing smoke like a chimney.

When I heard the news, my heart sank. A tree of that size and age is not something that can just be replanted. It's gone, along with all it's rings of ancient history. Vanished in a puff of smoke.

Life can be so short. Especially in light of eternity. Will we live by faith or by sight, in our few tree rings of the here and now?

May the short span of our lives be lived in a way pleasing to God, in light of His gloryand grace, for the endless rings of eternity are in His hands. He makes even the smallest grain of faith grow into a mighty tree, displaying His faithfulness for all to see (Isaiah 61:1-4).

"Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom (Psalm 90:12, a prayer of Moses)."