It’s the classic Adventist tale: a guy searching but finally content in God’s will, when suddenly the girl God had for him shows up when he least expects it. But let me tell the story anyway, because there’s a point to it — one that many of you married folks will understand. So, here it goes. It was the beginning of my final semester. I was invited to my friend’s campus apartment for a party, and the place was so packed we probably broke the fire code a couple times over. I worked the room, chatting with everyone, riding that easy confidence you get when you’re in your element. Then Kiersten walked in, and every bit of that confidence vanished like someone had pulled the plug. The very thought of talking to her felt like a leap I wasn’t qualified to take. Butterflies threw a full riot in my stomach, my knees went weak, and my brain completely short-circuited. I did nothing. And the worst part? This scene repeated itself over multiple weekends. Finally, one of those nights, I decided enough was enough. I took a sip of my Fanta for courage, and I went for it. To my shock, I did not die. Actually, she invited me to sit next to her. Score! We started with small talk, but as the evening went on the conversation went deep. Everyone else in that crowded apartment faded into background noise. When it was time to go, I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted to see her again. So, like any man bursting with confidence, I asked her on a date… through Instagram. The message read something like: “Do you like… want to get lunch or something?” Her response: “Sure.” Romantic, I know. After a couple of dates, Kiersten and I both knew there was something more. So much more that I assumed we were already dating. She disagreed! I hadn’t even officially asked her to be my girlfriend, and her parents were coming into town in a week. So I asked her. I promise I don’t drop the ball like this anymore! Before long, I was down on one knee, asking if she’d spend forever with me. Although it’s cute and funny to tell these stories now, to us it felt brand new. There were the awkward moments, the small laughs, the firsts that somehow felt bigger than they should have. Somewhere in the middle of all that, we found our rhythm, learning each other’s quirks, practicing patience, offering grace. Time flashes forward, and there we are, years from now, on a lazy afternoon when the house is quiet and the world feels far away. We’re sitting in comfortable silence that only comes with time and deep belonging. One glance is all it takes. No words needed. That single look carries everything: I like it here… with you. I still choose you. Then a hand reaches across the space between us, warm, familiar, and certain. Fingers intertwine like we’ve done a thousand times before. The answer comes back soft and sure: Yeah… me too. I’m so glad it’s you. We tend to focus on the big moments of our lives and forget why they feel so big to begin with. It is because we forget the thousand little moments that build up to those memorable moments. Excuse my theological tangent, but it’s a little like Christ on the cross and His resurrection. That was the pivotal moment in human history. Yet what made it so powerful were all the smaller things that Christ did before such a pivotal moment: it was the trials, healings, preaching, teachings, and long agonizing nights in prayer for us. Everything built toward that greater glory. The same is true for us. Weddings carry such grandeur because of the small things, past and future, that make the moment an incredible statement. It’s the embodiment of love that we rejoice in. It claims victory in the present and points to the future victory when our Lord returns. In the end, the small acts of love are what counts. So here we are, choosing each other, again and again, turning all those little firsts into something lasting. With the love and support of the Fowler and Zinke families, we’re grateful to share this moment with you.