The Bride Did Not Wear White

  The bride did not wear white. As she stood silently, numbly, waiting outside the church doors, you could tell that her gown had once been as pure as newly fallen snow. But not now. Now it was torn and tattered and frayed and faded, scratched away at the edges by corners that grabbed pieces of it as it floated on by, muddied by the grimy puddles that jealously clung to its lacy hem.
  She didn't know what she was going to tell everyone. Surely they would question her, wonder why her dress was so filthy, her face tear-stained, her soul cloaked with sin, guilt, doubt, despair. She had greasy smudges that contaminated her past, this Ordinary Princess. And they didn't know that. They would expect her to be innocent. They would expect her to be beautiful. They would expect her to wear white.
  Un-pure, a cast-aside, ostracized from society. These thoughts sat heavy on her shoulders, causing her to slump under the gargantuan weight. A solitary tear slipped through, trickled, beaded sparkling on her cheek.
  Then the trumpets blared. She heard the crowd rise. It was her entrance. It was her time. It was her.
  And her dress wasn't even white.
  The doors were flung open, the crowd gasped a short intake of oxygen, the Ordinary Princess continued marching bravely down the aisle. She kept her eyes on her intended. Her prince was all that mattered. It was the longest walk she'd ever taken.
  At the alter, she looked into her prince's eyes, and they brimmed with happiness and love.
  "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "My dress... me."
  "What do you mean?" He answered, a truly puzzled look dancing on his brow. "You're the most beautiful creature on earth."
  She looked down, and caught her breath with her stomach. For her tattered dress had disappeared. In its place, she was dressed in honesty, laced with kindness, ornamented in love. Her sandals embellished with virtue, her veil a token of purity and peace.
  "How..." She started, but never finished. Her question was answered in His eyes. The eyes of her Savior, the eyes of her King, the eyes of her first true love.