Dear you,
or me.
Today, something great happened. As you were slicing your Kraft cheese, you glanced at the expiration date. And I know, why do we always start these letters so strangely? Because I'm me. or you. or whatever. The date just so happened to be October 16th. The day you and Dean so lovingly picked out together after finding you had to wait another eight months to be married.
Four months and two weeks, exactly.
And as a Heavenly Father devotee, you instantly felt it was a gift from God. I know, I know. An expiration date is a gift from God? Now everyone just sounds pathetically insane. But you never look at the expiration dates (unless they are in yours and Dean's fridge--and then who knows how long that cheese has been in there.)
BUT ANYWAY. That just made your day so fantastic--to finally have something expire in your wedding month. And then, your dad just plants a giant, fantastic, surprising, metaphorical gift right in your metaphorical lap that you have the option to open now, or wait to open.
And you've decided to open this beautifully metaphoric gift from God.
And now you and Dean will be able to grow together closer to God nightly, weekly, monthly--or whenever you please.
And that is enough to make these next four months and two weeks a piece of cake.
love always//talor
