Two weeks ago today, Danny and I were on the road to Virginia. The night before, as Danny and I were snuggled into the couch watching the Olympics, his sister called him. That alone told Danny something was wrong — his sister is an avid texter, but she never calls. Ever. Except that night. She called with the long-expected but nonetheless wrenching news that their grandmother had passed away.

The next morning, Danny and I headed out to join the family. We helped prepare for the funeral, editing and enlarging two portraits of his grandmother. We helped prepare food for family and guests. We spent time reminiscing, poring through old snapshots — photos of Danny and his parents with his grandmother when he was young, photos of his grandmother when she was a young woman going to medical school in Korea in the 1940s. And we sent a few emails to clients we were in the process of working with, letting them know that business had to be put on hold for a bit. As important as weddings are to us, this had to be our priority.

Over the next several days, we attended the memorial services, gathered for meals with relatives, and took a day trip with Danny’s parents, grandfather, and aunt. As busy as we were, it was a different kind of busy than we’ve been accustomed to. It was busy not with the daily juxtaposition of adventure and drudgery that comes with running a business, but it was busy with the business of family. With being present to enjoy our time together, to learn new pieces of family history and to add to that history then and there.

And as busy as we were, it was a kind of busy that presented us with opportunities to reevaluate and assess — our business, our lives, and the way they intersect.

If we had been grading ourselves, very few of our evaluations and assessments would have resulted in good scores.

Far too often and far too sloppily, our photography business spills into our personal life and our personal time. Also far too often and far too frequently my personal time sandwiches itself between tasks that I know I have to complete to keep our business running — delivering photos to clients; drafting wedding day timelines; taking literally hours to agonize over every comma and detail in my correspondence with clients to make sure everything is perfect instead of sending the email as soon as I give it a quick proof-read; filing those ridiculous monthly taxes — and squeezes out the new projects that I need to tackle if I want the business to move forward.

And what does it leave us with? We love the feeling of a job well done, and we love it when we hear from our couples that they’re in awe that their wedding could be captured so emotionally. But, really. My fellow photographers and anyone who is struggling with finding balance or purpose in your life, I want you to think about this with me — think long and hard.

What do all the late nights and stress-filled days where we realize we have accomplished nothing of any lasting importance truly leave us with?

There is no question that I love the purpose of our job. More than just being honored, I am humbled that couples choose to let us be so intimately involved in the day they get married. I cherish being able to create family memories that will be even more cherished for a lifetime. What I don’t love is the haphazard process I have long followed to get there.

This business needs to be more like the time that we spent with family in Virginia last week: It needs to fill our time because what we are doing is important. It doesn’t need to just fill our time. What we do for our clients needs to be more like the time that we spent with family in Virginia last week: It needs to bring them closer because we in some way help them become closer. It doesn’t just need to bring them physically close so we can tell them to smile and press the shutter.

What will all of this mean for our photography business? Only good things — but there will definitely be changes. The first, and most dramatically liberating change for me is that I have decided I am tired of having a set blogging schedule. Blogging daily works for some photographers. I wanted it to work for me. Mostly though, it has been such a heavy, time-and-joy-sucking burden that despotically squashed my lifelong urge to write. This burden has been self-imposed — and I don’t need it anymore. So still look for blog posts regularly, but expect them to come from a desire to post gorgeous shoots or personal musings instead of from a sense of obligation to blog daily.

Expect many more changes to come, because I feel like we’re in an incredible stage of evolution right now. I feel like I am embarking on an incredible stage of personal growth, and I believe this business can’t help but grow along with it. I am hopeful and excited, and, truthfully, a little bit anxious. But I’m eager. Eager for this business and our lives to be lived intentionally and purposefully so they are glorifying to the God we serve, and so that we never have to give a disappointing answer to that question.

What will our lives leave us with?

~ Laura