In one week, my husband will be walking our little girl down the aisle. Hi there. I’m Leslie. I’m the mother of the bride. I may or may not be a little loopy at this point. This morning I was filling my car with gas at a gas station that had a McDonald’s and after I filled my tank, I inexplicably pulled in the drive-through lane and ordered a sausage McGriddle. I’ve never ordered a McGriddle in my life. I don’t know what came over me, but it may just have been one of the best decisions I ever made. Do you know those things have syrup hidden in secret little holes? It was pretty amazing. I think every mother of the bride should get one on her last day of work before the wedding.
Then I got to work and my co-worker and friend handed me these and declared today the mother of the bride day. She said today is all about me. And who wouldn’t want Fufu Berry carbonated candies on their big day?
These months have been full. Full of things that I’ve never dealt with ever before. Good things and hard things. Then, just this week, right at the time when the amount of stuff I still have left to do is more than any twenty people can handle, I got super dumb sick and couldn’t breathe and couldn’t do one more thing and slept a lot. Then, our washing machine overflowed in the middle of the night and we were up until 3:30 cleaning it up and Chris slipped on the wet floor and fell and hurt his back. But that’s just normal life stuff that happens to anyone. It’s just that I’m the mother of the bride and these things all seem extra EXTRA right now.
Advent is one of my favorite seasons, and I’m trying to remember it. I’m trying to remember that I love this waiting time. This time when the darkness gathers and builds in the quiet anticipation of the joy to come. Next year might be easier to remember, but I’m doing what I can with what I have right now. I have 5am, each morning, alone in the dark with only the Christmas tree lights on as I pray the morning offices before the day hurtles me onward. I have the beauty of the Psalms. I have candles and color and feasts and hope. I have friends that write poetic, heart-breaking, truth-filled goodness like this:
And I have reminders like this, in the middle of dark winter mornings, as I drive to work downtown and stop at a stoplight, waiting to turn the corner. There is light. It is coming. It is here. It is beautiful.
Hi. I’m Leslie. I’m the mother of the bride and I am ready for this week. May you and yours be blessed wherever you are as you wait and hope with me.