My world shook, literally shook, as my fianc , Scott, neared my house. The reverb from his booming music echoed through the trees about a mile away. My heart leaped inside my chest, for my Prince was on his way to rescue me. I had less than five minutes to apply my lipstick and take another glance at my radiant reflection before running down the stairs. As he pulled into the driveway, the windows rattled in the house, almost bowing from the decibels emanating from his car. The decibels within my heart could've outdone his champion sound system for it pounded with the ferocity of a young woman in love. My prince arose from his silver Dodge Charger and walked towards me. Crisp, white button up shirt, black trousers and a gleam in his eye meant only for me. A single long stem red rose held reverently before him. Our eyes locked through the glass of the front door and the world melted away. No one else existed. Impatiently, I opened the door for him. It took all my restraint to wait for him to finally stand before me and hand me the rose. I wanted to jump into his arms and rain kisses all over him. As he took hold of my hand and gave me a chaste kiss, I felt so drawn to him. Nothing could separate us. He was mine and I was his and my chariot awaited me.What happened afterward? How did we go from this blazing fire of romance and love to the all-consuming fire of anger and bitterness? Now, we faced divorce. Jeep Weekend was a last ditch effort to mend our marriage. What good could a few hours in a jeep do for our failing marriage? Regardless of this restoration attempt, my mind was made up. This weekend would seal the deal. Nobody, but God could change my mind My expectations were high. I expected a lot of what I had gotten for the last couple of years, a lot of demands, arguing, yelling, and crying. In all my expectations, I did not expect God to vividly illustrate the simple truth. Marriage is a jeep
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