My daughter, Piper, is in her vastly frustrating– yet slightly endearing– headstrong toddler phase. Each day is an exhausting cycle of asking her a million times to do or not do something, chasing her from one side of the house to the other, and talking her through some big emotions.

One of her new favorite things to do is to help mommy or daddy cook meals at the stove. Tonight, I was preparing a dinner of shrimp tacos and rice. While I was cutting up vegetables, she pulled up her stool and started trying to help. She grabbed for the knife, which started a conversation of how she’s not really ready for that part yet and she can get hurt if she doesn’t wait until she gets older. Next, she started playing with the elements on the stove. I asked her not to play with them because she doesn’t know which one is on and if she touches one that’s hot she can get burned.

Hey Pops, I’ve been thinking and praying a lot about wanting to really understand what it means to be the Bride of Christ. Maybe it’s because I can look on the sentiment with my own experiential sentimentality, but I want to truly realize what it is to be your bride. Because now I know in the physical what it is to be one. I know the anticipation of a wedding celebration where everyone in attendance is there to look upon and witness a love great enough to don its very best and meet at an altar to profess that love.