When Stephen and I had our engagement pictures made, there were some awkward moments. As far as I’m concerned, the most awkward moments were the moments where we were required to look at each other for lengths of time. Now please don’t get me wrong: I like the way he looks. I think he’s hot and I love the way his hands look and the color of his eyes and I should probably stop before someone (namely my sister, fake, or worse, real vomits all over everywhere.) But we don’t spend a lot of time just looking at each other. We’re in the car or we’re watching TV or we’re at the movies, or we’re in a group of people and the option to take the time to look at him is rarely present. And so, the moments during photography were awkward. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m not even sure it is something that should be fixed. After all, it seems somewhat natural to have an uneasiness about the person who knows you best looking directly into your eyes and knowing that they’re seeing so many things that no one else sees. I suspect though, that there’s a reason that the pictures where we’re looking at each other are my favorite. There’s something extremely comforting about the knowledge that someone who I’ve consciously decided to bare myself to still wants me.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work. Ecclesiastes 4:9

See, I’m not so great on my own. Stephen probably isn’t either, although you’ll have a hard time convincing me of that. Together though, together we are nicer, more faithful, more fun, and more Christ-like than we would be apart. All other things not withstanding, I’m glad I’m marrying a man who will get onto me, who will regularly put aside the things he wants to do because he knows I’d rather do something else, and a man who knows enough to go to some movies with Todd and not me.

P.S. I promise to back to regularly scheduled programming, i.e. asking for advice and sharing really mundane crap, next week. My apologies for two sappy posts in a row.


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