I’m taking a moment to celebrate today, and it’s an easy one to remember. It’s the day that two lives were completely and permanently woven into mine. It’s the day that life would (twice!) never be the same.

Four years ago tonight, I was a new husband. A year prior, I had basically surrendered to the possibility of lifelong bachelorhood, but it seemed that God had other ideas. Jocelyn and I met in December, 2007, and our tribes saw the magic before it became completely clear to us. We exchanged vows nine months later, fulfilling a prediction of one of Jocelyn’s mentors that it would happen before the summer was over. It’s amazing to look back and to see the design in it all – just to say, “thank you.”

Two years ago tonight, I was a new dad, scared spitless as I looked at my daughter under the oxygen tent in the NICU while my wife rested two floors below after a scary, premature birth. The future was so uncertain at that moment as the staff checked her for the myriad complications that can face a child with Down syndrome and we embarked on the months of preparation for the inevitable heart surgery ahead of us.

All I could do was croak out a meek “thank you” to God – at least for that moment – that my girls were safe.

But even in my fear, my soul was enriched by our ever-widening community (with representatives from four continents) praying in solidarity for Julia’s health and Jocelyn’s and my sanity. And many of those friendships still remain even after we got through the surgery in January 2011. (editor’s note – she just met with Dr. Weinhouse yesterday and he described her as “magnificently healthy”)

Moreover, as Julia’s life has unfolded over the last two years, a conviction that I clung to before she was born has slowly come into focus. Even through the frustrations of navigating the endless bureaucracies finding resources to help her reach her fullest potential, it is becoming more and more evident that it was no haphazard pairing and re-pairing of chromosomes that brought us together.

Just as God somehow moved in Jocelyn’s heart to choose this clueless guy to live out the rest of our lives together, I (perhaps foolishly) like to think that Julia somehow chose us. Her bright little spirit was tasked by God to teach Jocelyn and I how to love in a new way.

That learning process has often been a gut-wrenching one, especially now that Julia’s two-year-old willfulness has emerged. But the ancient covenant that is struck between parents and child still remains, and Jocelyn and I pray every day that God strip from us all that could get in the way of his dream for the life he has entrusted to us.

I am so glad for this day and so glad that Jocelyn chose me and Julia chose us.