Last Saturday my little Sarah got to do something that just thrilled her soul.

For at least a week she had been relentlessly questioning me:

“Mommy, do I get to go to the wedding?”

“I don’t know, we’ll see.”

“Mommy do I get to go to the wedding?”

“Maybe. If  you can be a good girl and sit quietly like you do at church.”

That was it.

To everyone she saw at church, “I get to go to the wedding!”

To the ladies decorating the church for the wedding (who she didn’t know) from across the yard, “ I GET TO GO TO THE WEDDING!”

I thought her little head was gonna explode.

So I get her all dressed, french-braided her hair, even let her put a little lipstick on. She was all set to be Daddy’s date for the wedding (Mommy didn’t get to go, unfortunately.) She leaves with her daddy, stars in her eyes.  When she came home she was so delighted. Told me all the details she could remember from the ceremony. Pretty dresses, pretty flowers, and oh, I wish I had a picture of her face when she told me they kissed. Priceless. Superman told me later that as the bridal party was leaving the church, Sarah looked up at him and said “Daddy, I love weddings.”


My question is where is all this coming from? My sweet little girl is only four years old. She won’t be getting married for at least 35-40 more years, right?  Of course all her excitement over this wedding of a girl she really barely knows made me think of her wedding day.

And Anna Bell’s.

And Gabriella’s.

Yikes.

It’s gonna take some special guys to get their daddy to let his girls go on a date, much less actually walk them down the aisle and give them away. Fortunately we have an application ready and waiting.

In all seriousness, I’m thankful for a Mom and Dad who prayed for their kids’ future spouses from the time we were small.

And that’s what we’ll be doing…

for the next 40 or 50 years.