Here we are on a lovely Sunday night, on the first of May. This day marks “my wedding month,” and exactly three weeks until I Do. I can’t believe we’re out of the “months” and into the “weeks!” When I used to see women out and about and hear that they were ___ weeks away from their wedding, my heart would get all nervous. I’d think to myself, “shouldn’t she be at some appointment or something?! Staying inside to avoid city bacteria, unfortunate tan lines, broken bones and the like? NEGLECTFUL BRIDE!” And now that I’m here, I’m laughing at the fact that the wedding is on the burner behind the back burner in my brain. I cannot wait to marry my bubs- but there are 288,881,0118 things that require my full attention that happen to take place first.


 The city was absolutely beautiful today and everything seemed a little bit sweeter. When my love and I finished church, we decided to walk to a new doughnut spot. (Yes, he loves his doughnuts…and I may or may not have eaten three.) On the way there we found a beautiful modern breakfast spot to try and loved it. I decided that for the weeks leading up to the wedding I will give up sweets and flour again. I allowed myself a week long free for all, and have a face full of about twenty seven pimples to show for it. My body told me to chill out, and I obliged. After the three doughnuts.


In church today, I was absolutely captivated by a song I have known by heart since the fourth grade. It is a sure-fire winner for summer camps, chapel sessions, and youth group. The problem with knowing the words by heart sometimes is that you begin reciting rather than soaking in every single syllable. I chose to do that this morning, and found myself in awe of how worthy Our Father is to be praised.