intentionally on purpose...mostly

"What defines us?" I ask my husband while we clean up the toast crumbs that escaped from our children's hungry mouths at lunch.

He pauses before answering. I keep my eyes down, not wanting to let him examine my thoughts. I know he is looking to read my face, to know if this question is a set-up to which he cannot answer in any way that would make me happy (you know those questions, like do you think she's pretty?).

I decide to rescue him. "It just seems like everyone else's family has their thing. I just wonder what ours is." It's now my turn to pause, to sort out my scattered thoughts, as I rinse the last of our dishes under the hot water. "Most of the time I feel like we're watching everyone else enjoy close relationships and, I..."

Now husband leans against the counter, waiting for me to continue. "I just feel like we aren't getting anything out of what we choose to do with our time. I want to be more intentional with what we do, and who we choose to do things with."

I put my eyes down again and scrape some melted cheese off the counter with my fingernail. The truth is, I miss my friends. I miss my kids playing with their kids. I miss being a part of their lives and having them be a part of mine.

My husband sees this. He reads the slump in my shoulders and the tension in my heart. "I want to be more intentional too." He draws me close. "I think we're ready for that now."

I lean back into him, thankful for his strength and his comfort.

We are ready.

XOXO