After taking one last glance through the camera, my eyes drifted to the side, accompanied by a nearly inaudible sigh. I gave the sigh a person does when he is going through a pang of grief or nostalgia—only this time it was mourning the loss of an evening I will cherish for decades, I hope.

It wasn’t the “movie-esque” affect these fiancés displayed. It wasn’t the eloquence of their words for one another. It was that I was genuinely caught up in Kevin and MarySarah’s story. I was embedded in the fabric of their sufferings, their yearnings to live wholly for Jesus, their heart for one another, their victories together and individually. Yes, I was one with them, although separate.

It may be true that the camera seizes intimacy from subjects in its view. Yet what this camera gives back in the form of the McBrides’ wedding is arguably more than what it takes. As I zoomed in on Kevin processing up to the altar of his dreams, I saw him receive that moment: this was the fulfillment for the longings deep in his heart ever since his youth. As he received it, I received it for myself.

Their journey led us from Saint John Neumann’s Church in Sunbury, OH to their beloved mission home, Damascus Catholic Mission Campus in Centerburg. As the night wrapped up, I found myself going out of my way just to drive past Kevin and MarySarah’s house. I’m not sure exactly why. I wasn’t contracted to continue filming the next moments and days of their marriage. I think I just wanted to know how good their life is together. To make sure that the Lord was doing what He said He was going to do while they were dating. To see if heaven truly could be experienced on earth.

I don’t think this is a quote from anyone, but I have learned this about filming some of the most important moments in a man and wife’s lives: our hearts hold good stories, and good stories take parts of our hearts.