Hold my hand

I talk a lot about how I'm so excited to graduate and move to Utah and start my internship and how thrilled I am that Ryan is starting at BYU and how wonderful everything is. And I am excited, and life is good, but to be honest, it's a little scary sometimes.

It's a little scary to go to church and not know anyone. It's kind of scary to stay home on the first day of school, to worry about having a job once the internship is over. None of it is terrifying, but it's unfamiliar, and that makes me a little uneasy.

This weekend, we spent a wonderful weekend with some of Ryan's mission friends and their wives at their mission president's house. We were finishing up a nice, relaxing break, but in the back of my mind, I was just worried about things. I have a gift for making little worries seem like the end of the world, and I was suppressing the urge to really let the stress of "What's going to happen next?" get to me.

It was like she was reading my mind. During scripture study, Sister Egan hit me with a simple statement:

"At some point, we're all like Adam and Eve walking into our own personal wilderness. And just like them, we hold hands and move forward."

What Ryan and I are doing isn't new. Through the ages, millions of men and women have shared my fears. It seems to me that those who lean on each other usually turn out all right. Better than all right.

Ryan and I aren't sure who initiated our first hand hold. I guess it doesn't really matter, as long as we keep holding on tight.
*wedding day pic by Camille