SUNDAY 6PM. We pull into the driveway with two over-tired kids. Riley played in this weekend’s volleyball tournament with her whole heart and she rose to a whole new level of skill. Eighth grade, right? She’s growing powerful right before our eyes.
We emptied the giant vehicle “Frank” and I poured a sleeping Jack onto the couch. We love our home in a million ways. It’s the home for our hearts and our life’s work. Sweet home.
In that moment, my husband sees opportunity. Like a boy with an idea, he insisted that I steal this time to sit and write. Riley’s busy, Jack’s snoozing, and Steve’s intention — that would not be ignored — was that he would light a fire and sit me down with all the peace and quiet and let me write. So he did just that. He blocked my path as I tried to put away tournament food. No. He would deliver my power cord and put on the music. Just sit.
This is one of those times that I must relinquish and accept gratefully. There’s no deserving or owing. It is a gift to him that I receive his gift to me. Learn this, because in the scheme of my life, this whole way of being married is still new.
He does this. I relinquish. And before the fire can warm the room, before this little screen lights up, I hear a strange sound in the kitchen.
A power tool. But what? Our standing joke is that he cannot resist a project of any kind that involves large-scale horsepower. But what was this? What now, at this quiet hour? It was not a Cuisinart or sausage-making-grinder. Why, this sound was from a different season altogether. Blasting through the gentle winter evening, THE LEAF BLOWER in the Kitchen!
Oh the delightful layers in this prank.
He knows this to be very very funny, and it worked.
We laughed big together.
He gives, I receive. He points the fun at himself, and teases our US.
Amidst this busy weekend of complete dedication to children, we see the divine power of a best-friend connection…
… that fuels the happiness in a home
… that’s hard to capture with words ….
…..and breathes deep, way beneath the surface.