It was a warm September night off the shore of Hilton Head, where one bride was in celebratory mode with family and friends while another was ready to bring her life to an end. For her sake, the king of the sea had been fed and his arms which swooped in like waves were merciful to her foolish ways. Surely, she did not want to awaken a sleeping beast -"In no way, she wanted to become my next feast," thought the sea. As the bride went further out into the dangerous waters; in her mind, it was the water she needed from crossing a burning bridge. The bridge to the altar was on fire and fueled by malicious intent, gossip, backstabbing and betrayal brought on by those who were closest to her. She'd become so burdensome, that she refused to continue living a lie; smiling on the outside as if everything was alright. That night, at the sea, it became the stage-the boxing ring between the burdened bride and God. As she looked up to the heavens for guidance and strength, she demanded God to put the fire out on the bridge that had flamed around her. He denied her request and the fire continued to burn. The bride now was faced with deciding to continue the journey, risking being charred and scarred by the fire or whether to do what any right-minded individual would; stop, drop and roll away, FOREVER
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