A few years ago, when the children were smaller, time together just as a couple was a rare treasure, even harder to find than it is now. There were always little voices and little people, with their sound effects and observations about dinosaurs and bodily functions, effectively preventing any completed adult conversation (unless it had to do with snacks). Stealing time away from the children was no easy task. That’s why we were so excited to finally get the chance to have a lunch date. Sure, midday was too early for the lunch menu in Ireland, but we didn’t mind a second breakfast as long as we were together. The place wasn’t very crowded, so even after we finished we were not ready to give up the privilege of those rare quiet moments – until we were asked to move. It seems the little old lady with the walker was accustomed to sit at our particular table, so could we please clear out for her?
A few weeks later, we somehow managed to squeeze a few moments together again, this time with just the youngest child, who would be happy with her muffin long enough for a bit of real conversation. We went to a different cafe. Just as we were getting settled, the same lady with the walker arrived. She looked around at all the empty tables, then slowly walked over and sat with us. Apparently, the peace and quiet we wanted so desperately were exactly what she had too much of. We chatted. Rebekah coloured a picture for her. We finished.
And we thanked God for our noisy home.