Today my husband and I celebrated 2 years of marriage. And when I think about it, marriage is like the time I learned to ride a bike.

I was about 10 years old, and I traveled to St. Croix in the United States Virgin Islands to visit my Great Aunt for the summer. That was the first time I flew alone, and I recall crying during the entire flight because my ears hurt. Side note: I now take 2 Advil before every flight. It’s an anti-inflammatory and keeps the eardrum from “swelling”. You’re welcome.

Anyway, I digress.

But, during that trip, I informed my cousin that I couldn’t ride a bike, and he insisted that he would teach me.

We went over the basics in the yard, and I was confident and ready!

We took this big ole bike—literally the bike was way bigger than me, and we approached the road next to the house.

My cousin steadied the bike while I got on, and in one push, he sent me peddling down the road.

As the bike picked up speed as it traveled downhill, I began to realize that peddling was not the only issue. I had to find balance, maneuver the curves, and quickly figure out the controls on this bike that was brand new to me. And as the bike moved faster and faster, I realized that I was no longer peddling because I was speeding downhill.

I was a complete mess on that bike. It was going so fast. In order to keep balance, I couldn’t turn to scream for help as my cousins giggled at the top of hill yelling “Go Mel”. I couldn’t stop abruptly or let go of the handles and scream and cry (like I wanted to), because I would fall and most likely, break something.

So, I decided I had only two choices: PEDAL OR DIE! (Clearly, I was a dramatic 10-year-old).

And I peddled.

And I steered.

And in spite of the fear of failing, in spite of the fear of falling, I kept going steering down the hill.

I learned how to gently squeeze the break to slow down the speeding bike just enough so it wouldn’t crash.

I realized that safety equipment is created for a reason and told myself that if I survived this time, I’d surely get a helmet and knee pads.

I learned how to shift my body weight to make sure the bike could handle the curves.

And even at the age of 10, I am certain that I learned how to call on Jesus on THAT day!

As I got to the bottom of the hill, thinking that I had figured the whole thing out, I attempted to stop the bike. I gently squeezed the break handle to bring the bike to a stop. But because the bike was so big, I couldn’t get my feet to the ground quick enough.

The bike toppled over and I fell into a patch of grass.

My first reaction was to see who was looking. Nobody was there. There was a horse in the yard across the street and even he continued to mind his business.

I jumped up, assessed the minimal damage, brushed off my clothes...

And began to push that big ole bike back up the hill.

And when I got to the top, my cousins were there with hugs and cheers...and laughs (bums).

But, I was proud. I accomplished the task. And through sheer terror, panic, anxiety, moments of awkwardness, and even after a fall, I had learned the basics of riding a bike.

Marriage is the bike, the hill, the fall, and the up-hill walk!

Happy 2nd Anniversary to my riding partner!

#5Six17 #HEARSToryInTheMaking #StillMakingHEARSTory

Still Single? Now Worries, God is working it all out if you desire to be married. But in the mean time, check out Ask The Preacher’s Wife: How Can I Stay Saved, Single AND Sanctified!