Two weeks from tomorrow is my wedding day. While I'm stressed that all of the planning has to be done in such a short amount of time, the wedding isn't the main worry tonight. It isn't even the issue of moving a family of four in with another family of four and becoming a family of eight. In a three bedroom house. With six children born over a period of six and a half years. Or moving all three bedrooms around so the three girls get the biggest room since two of the girls will be teenagers and praying that those two teenage girls who are suddenly sisters become best friends rather than mortal enemies. It's not having all three boys (two of them only six months apart) in the smallest bedroom and hoping they survive each other. And that the bedroom and furniture survive them.
Tonight, while my soon to be husband is at work and my son is sleeping on the couch as I update the blog rather than work on moving the bedrooms, I find myself feeling scared and excited and wishing I had more time but also hoping the next two weeks passes quickly. Now we'll have a husband and daddy who loves us and wants to take care of us. And he really does love us, and he really does want to take care of us.
I just hope it doesn't go away like it has in the past, over and over. I hope we'll have a happy loving family with children raised in a home centered around Christ and the gospel. And I hope and pray that I don't fail again as a wife, because more than ever I just want my children to understand that life is about more than parties and dances and endless dating. I don't want them to believe that marriage is disposable, that relationships are temporary or that daddies leave when things get too tough. But it's so very hard to expect the kids to believe in happily ever after when I've proven to them that it doesn't exist. So tonight I will pray that I can finally show them it does.
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