And That's On Purpose
Learning to Capture Joy As It Actually Exists, Not As I Think It Should
I used to think good family photos meant everyone was smiling big. Laughing. Looking at the camera with those picture-perfect expressions that say "we're happy and we have it all together."
Turns out, that's a lie we all bought into from looking at too many stock photos.
The more families I photograph, the more I realize that's not how joy actually works. And honestly? Real joy is way more interesting than the fake stuff anyway.
Some families are loud. Like, LOUD loud. They're all over each other, cracking jokes, wrestling, laughing so hard they can't hold still. Someone's always making a face behind someone else's head. The session feels like I'm trying to herd caffeinated cats, and the best images come from moments I didn't even plan because I was too busy dodging a flying five-year-old.
Other families are quiet. They're gentle with each other. A hand on a shoulder. A soft smile. The way they lean into each other without saying a word. The joy is there, you just have to look closer to see it. These are the families where I feel like I need to whisper and tiptoe, and that's okay too.
And here's what I'm learning: both are beautiful. Both are real. Both are exactly what they're supposed to be.
Because God didn't create us all to experience or express joy the same way. And honestly? Thank God for that. Can you imagine if every family was identical? How boring would that be?
Psalm 139:14 says "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well."
Fearfully and wonderfully made. Not mass-produced. Not cookie-cutter. Each person, each family, each personality crafted intentionally and uniquely. God's not running a copy machine up there. He's an artist.
Some kids light up the second they see the camera. They're performers, hams, born for the spotlight. They'll strike seventeen poses in thirty seconds and ask if I got their good side. (Yes, sweetie, all your sides are good sides.) They make my job easy because their joy is right there on the surface, impossible to miss.
Other kids are observers. They're thoughtful, quiet, watching everything. They're the ones who take one look at me and immediately hide behind their mom's leg like I just showed up with a dentist drill. Their joy shows up differently, in the way they hold their parent's hand, in a small smile when they feel safe, in the way they relax once they realize I'm not going to make them do anything uncomfortable. These kids take a little longer, but once they warm up? Magic.
Neither is better. Neither is worse. They're just different expressions of the same thing: a soul being exactly who God made them to be.
I think about the disciples. Peter was loud, impulsive, always the first to speak. Probably the guy who talked during movies. John was contemplative, the one who leaned on Jesus and thought deeply about everything. Definitely the guy who took forever to order at restaurants because he was still deciding. Both loved Jesus. Both served Him faithfully. But their personalities? Completely different.
God used both. God loved both. God created both on purpose.
The same is true for your family.
Your loud kid who can't sit still and makes everyone laugh? That's not a problem to fix. That's a personality to celebrate. God made them with that energy, that enthusiasm, that ability to bring light into a room. Sure, they might drive you nuts sometimes, but they're also the one who makes boring grocery trips entertaining.
Your quiet kid who takes forever to warm up and barely smiles for the camera? That's not a flaw. That's depth. That's a soul that feels things deeply and shows love in subtler, more intentional ways. They're the one who notices when you're having a bad day and quietly brings you their favorite stuffed animal.
Both are made in God's image. Both reflect different aspects of who He is.
Because God is both the God of thunder and earthquakes and the still, small voice. He's the God who celebrates loudly and the God who meets us in silence. He contains multitudes, and He created us to reflect that diversity. He's big enough for all of it.
When I photograph families now, I'm not trying to get everyone to perform the same kind of joy. I'm trying to capture the joy that's actually there, however it shows up.
Sometimes that means letting the loud family be loud. Letting them wrestle and joke and be themselves without trying to calm them down or control them. Yes, someone might fall down. Yes, someone might make a weird face. Yes, the images might be blurry or chaotic. But they're real. They're true to who that family is. And ten years from now, those are the images they'll laugh at and say "yep, that's us."
Sometimes that means giving the quiet family space. Not forcing smiles or big expressions. Just letting them be together in their natural rhythm. The images might be softer, more subtle, but they're just as full of love. These are the families who look at their gallery and say "you really captured us," because I didn't try to turn them into something they're not.
Romans 12:6 says "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them."
We all have different gifts. Different ways of being in the world. Different ways of expressing what's in our hearts. And that's grace. That's God's intentional design. He didn't mess up when He made you the way you are.
I've photographed families where one parent is extroverted and the other is introverted, and you can see it in the images. One is animated, telling stories, making everyone laugh. The other is calm, steady, the anchor. But watch them together and you see how they balance each other. How they complement each other. How God put them together on purpose because they needed exactly what the other one brings.
I've photographed siblings where one is the performer and the other hides behind mom, and both are loved exactly as they are. The parents aren't trying to change either one. They're not saying "why can't you be more like your brother?" They're celebrating what makes each kid unique. That's good parenting right there.
That's what we're supposed to do, isn't it? Celebrate the diversity instead of trying to force everyone into the same mold.
First Corinthians 12 talks about the body of Christ having many parts. "The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I have no need of you,' nor again the head to the feet, 'I have no need of you.'"
We need the loud ones and the quiet ones. We need the performers and the observers. We need the people who fill the room and the people who notice the details everyone else misses. We need the huggers and the wave-from-across-the-room people. We need all the different flavors of human that God created.
We need all of it because God designed it that way.
And when I look through images after a session, I'm looking for the moments that capture each person as they truly are. Not as I think they should be, but as God made them.
The kid who finally relaxed and showed me their real smile, the small, private one, not the forced "say cheese" camera smile that looks like they're in pain.
The parent who's usually the one behind the camera, who looks uncomfortable being photographed and kept saying "just take pictures of the kids," but for just a second let their guard down and I caught the love in their eyes when they looked at their family.
The toddler who wouldn't cooperate for a single posed shot but was absolutely radiant running through the field doing their own thing, probably chasing a bug or a leaf or an imaginary friend.
All of it matters. All of it tells the story. All of it reflects the image of God in different, beautiful ways.
Ephesians 2:10 says "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."
Workmanship. Not assembly line production. Workmanship implies care, intention, artistry. God crafted you specifically. Your personality, your temperament, the way you experience and express joy, all of it was purposeful. You're not a mistake or a rough draft. You're the finished product, and God said "yeah, that's exactly what I wanted."
So when I photograph your family and your kid won't smile the way you want them to, or your spouse looks stiff and uncomfortable (because let's be honest, most dads look like they're being held hostage in family photos), or everyone's energy is different and it feels like chaos?
I'm not worried. Because I'm not trying to create some manufactured, Pinterest-perfect version of your family that doesn't actually exist. I'm trying to capture the real one. The one God put together. The one where joy looks different on everyone, and that's exactly how it's supposed to be.
Some joy is loud and obvious. Some joy is quiet and requires you to pay attention. Some joy is silly and some is serene. Some people express joy by laughing until they snort. Some people express it with a peaceful smile and closed eyes.
But it's all joy. It's all beautiful. It's all reflecting the God who creates with infinite variety because He's not interested in copies.
He's interested in originals.
And your family? You're all originals. Every single one of you. God broke the mold after He made you. Actually, He never used a mold to begin with.
That's what I want to capture. Not who you think you're supposed to be, but who you actually are. The loud and the quiet. The silly and the serious. The chaos and the calm. The kid who cooperates and the kid who I have to bribe with goldfish crackers.
Because that's where the real beauty is. That's where God shows up. In the diversity. In the differences. In the unique way each soul He created experiences and expresses the life He gave them.
So no, I don't need everyone smiling the same way or looking at the camera at the same time or performing joy they don't feel.
I just need you to be you. However that looks. However that feels. Even if "you" means someone's crying, someone's making a weird face, and someone's looking completely the wrong direction.
Because you were made on purpose. And your joy, however it shows up, is exactly what it's supposed to be.
Even if it's the quiet kind. Even if it's the loud kind. Even if it's the kind that looks like organized chaos and requires me to take 500 photos to get one where everyone's eyes are open.
It's all beautiful. It's all sacred. It's all worth capturing.
BECAUSE IT'S ALL YOU.
