There were 16 people in the room. No music. My father walked me down the aisle. I wore borrowed shoes, some make up, and a fifteen dollar necklace. My siblings bought my wedding dress, and my brother and one of Perze’s best friends took our pictures. We wrote our own vows and I cried straight through my words and his. Our pastor’s wife thoughtfully put lace on the floor of the altar, and my mom adorned it with 2 vases of white roses. The men wore Barongs. The plant that Pastor speaks of these last few Sundays were alive and lush. Every year we go back to that simple day and when we come back to the present, we are in awe with what has transpired since then. Fourteen years of love unfolding. To God be the glory.
(Pictured: Zienne reading the biography of JK Rowling. She just bought the book yesterday night + she can’t put it down. Here, she’s waiting for the bus while reading. She is very into biographies like Elleonai.) Little Story: We went to BN last night + bumped into one of the Bears’ teachers. She showed us the book she bought + explained she had bought it because of the unique texture of the cover. Then she mentioned how upset her husband will be with her for buying another children’s book, since their children have all grown up and moved out. That thought lingered. Bigger Story: I could picture myself in 20-30 years, collecting books that remind me so much of the books that are sacredly romancing their minds and hearts. That future nostalgia’s gonna be killer. Each of my daughters loves certain types of books, and it intrigues me how these books are helping to build the constructs of their imagination and reality, giving a glimpse of what they deem important enough that it keeps calling them for more of their interest and attention. Just like their clothes that they gravitate to, somewhat helping to identify their personality, books give insight […]