I’ve got a story.
I’ll preface it by saying, it was truly the most romantic thing I’ve done with my husband at least since we had our third child.
Our garden is in full bloom. Actually, our cucumbers are spent, and we have been getting butternut squash for a week, so I think we’re on the downhill end of the summer garden.
We have a ton of peppers that were ready to be picked. By ton, I mean about a quart… Which is a ton compared to last year’s yield of 0.
So we put the kids down for bed and went through their night time routine. And then my husband asks, “Do you wanna go pick some peppers?”
“… Sure…” I love being in the garden with no real purpose at all, so I was excited he was interested in joining me for a harvest.
We pulled on our boots and walked outside. He looked at me again and asked, “Wanna hold hands on the way down there?”
So he took my hand and we walked down to our garden.
Can I just say, that’s how I imagine God wanted Eden to be…
Husband and wife, walking together, holding hands, surveying and tending the garden, enjoying each other’s company and relishing in the peacefulness of the moment; and God walking with us.
Anyway, we picked our jalapeños, and pepperoncini peppers, and a few of the sunflower heads that had gone to seed.
I didn’t really want the sweet moment to end when we went back inside, but I had a feeling our infant would be awake again…
I was right. Baby boy was screaming and ready to eat.
I calmed the little man down and stopped in the toddler room to tell them to go to sleep!
I came back to the living room and he said, “See? There. I invited you someplace nice you wanted to go, held your hand on the way there, and spent time doing things you like to do. Don’t say I never take you on dates.”
He smirked, slyly. I gave him a look.
And then I went to the kitchen and plated up some of his favorite chocolate cake with our homemade blackberry
jam sauce on top.
He took a break from his classwork and reading to enjoy a dessert with me, and then the reality of life set in…
The baby started fussing, the toddlers wouldn’t be still and go to sleep, now 2 hours past their bedtime, my husband had reading and homework to finish that was due, and I had to bandage a child’s mysteriously cut finger.
The moral of my story is, don’t ever discount the little things.
Those sweet stolen moments are precious to me.
It may not seem outrageously charming or romantic to anyone but me, but after 8 years of marriage and 3 small children, I’ve learned to see time for what it is- fleeting!
I can’t get back lost time. I can never get back those months we had to spend apart because of deployments or field ops. But I can enjoy every second of our time together, no matter how “routine” or “unromantic” it is.
I think that’s what time does to healthy marriages; it sweetens and transforms the mundane into the beautiful. When I look back on my life and what we’ve built together– the legacy we’re leaving for our kids– I know I’ll cherish that time we stole away to walk together in the garden.