I love beginnings. I love surprises. I love hope. I love family. I love children. I love my children. I love the stories of my family, all my children, and how each moment is another day of beginning. It is another birth, another white page.
And in the beginning there was no color, and I added color. And in the beginning there was no texture, and I added texture. And in the color and in the texture I added layers upon layers of beginning. All new. Everything, my daughter, is all new, with Me.
There is an order unfolding in a beginning. There is a plan shaping, one decision at a time. And while I have a plan and I know what’s ahead, the discovery of watching you begin again never stops stirring my heart. For you are new, this day, with a story you’ve lived already, but yet still—still, my dear—brand new.
We’ve talked together now, about weddings. I’ve shared with you a glimpse of your wedding, the preparations I am making now for that celebration of beginnings to take place. I love celebrating my union with you. I love the celebration of the body fully formed, the bride united and whole.
Do not be dismayed by how things seem like they change so very slowly—how the difficult circumstances you face don’t seem to go away. This temporary life now is a thin mask for what is still to come. Your yearning for Me—for connection with Me—ushers in the next beginning, you seeing Me in the midst of this world’s worries.
I love the story of this world, and I love the story of you. I love the wedding for which you are being prepared. And I love how you get a glimpse, now, of the beauty of the wedding day and how it is the ultimate beginning.
Beginning happened the day the light was formed, the day my Son was born, the day the Word came down. Beginning happened the day all story began to be told.
Beginning happened before you took in your first breath, before your lips shaped into a smile. Beginning happened before the pain came in, before the regret shaped you, before sin was taken off your shoulders. Beginning happened when my Son chose to die so He could marry you.
Beginning happened the day He rose. Beginning happened the day you opened your eyes this day. Beginning happened the moment you sought Me, the moment of the wedding, the moment you trusted Me, and the moment you loved Me, and when you donned your wedding dress and you saw Me and you joined your sisters and brothers—like I ask you to now—to be with Me and call out to Me and be the wedding song I’ve made you to sing. This is the celebration. This is the beginning.
I am the beginning. Stay close, my daughter. I am where beginnings happen. Here, now, the moment you breathed your first and last breath.