Getaway
It's been almost two months since we arrived here in Indiana--which is hard to believe! There are so many, many things I could write about. To be honest, life has been a bit of a whirlwind of visits with friends and family, attending weddings, living with family, baseball games, jumping back into work, catching up on certifications, adjusting to a different parent at home, getting reacquainted with our town, settling back into church, adjusting to night shift... We've had our share of good times and challenges, laughter and tears. There are so many stories, but rather than delve into all of them, I'll take a break from the hustle and bustle and drop you in in the middle of a few moments of absolute peace and stillness.
A few weeks ago, Micah's sister and brother-in-law told us they'd been trying to find a way to surprise us with some time away. If we could find a date, they would take the kids and put us up in a hotel for some (much needed!) time away. This was the weekend. I think we were aware, to some extent, of how little time we've had to just be us, but it wasn't until we got away and disconnected from all of the other noises (good and bad) that we realized how desperately we'd needed that space.
We filled our time with a long hike at a beautiful nature preserve. It's impossible to describe the feeling of peace we get from staring up into the trees, being surrounded by nothing but green space and silence. There's something about seeing trees that are decades old and flourishing that puts my own worries into perspective; they've managed to find a way, and we will too. We stumbled on a waterfall and watched it for a while, marveling at the sound of running water, of a stream slowly flowing over rocks. And all the while, we were alone, uninterrupted by schedules or little voices or obligations, to talk and soak in the peace.
We lingered over dinner, took a nap, went out for coffee. And underlying each of the ordinary moments was an odd sense. It's so easy in the noise of every day to lose sight of who we are, not just as individuals, but as a couple. We've tried to be intentional about staying connected, but life so often crowds in (especially in this season where it feels as though life has been turned on its head), and the noise is deafening. Conversations become functional: who needs to be where at what time, what needs to be added to the shopping list, what we should make for supper... We know these things are a part of life, but there's so much more. We soaked up the stillness, the freedom, the space to just be us this weekend, and we found each other. It turns out, under all the change and activity and hustle and bustle, that we're still the same people who used to sit and sip coffee for hours. We're the same people who used to love to hike and soak up the nature around us. We're still the same people who could go an entire weekend talking about everything except what needed to be on the grocery list Monday morning.
And yet, this was a different getaway. So often we come away from these weekends expecting to be taken back to who we were at the beginning, as though we'll somehow emerge like that twenties couple giddy with excitement over life together. This weekend I saw us differently. I saw more confidence, more experience, and a little more grey around that smile I love so much. We didn't go back to the beginning, we went somewhere better. We went to a place that brings with it ten years of life together, shared experiences, memories, hopes. We brought the joys and the sorrows and we came as the people we are now, because of those things. Like the trees flourishing after decades, I felt like the years and the weather had left their mark on us, and it was beautiful. It's such an unusual thing to describe, but in some strange way, it centered us. No, we are not the same, exactly. But we are still us, and we've gotten to this place together.
A few weeks ago, Micah's sister and brother-in-law told us they'd been trying to find a way to surprise us with some time away. If we could find a date, they would take the kids and put us up in a hotel for some (much needed!) time away. This was the weekend. I think we were aware, to some extent, of how little time we've had to just be us, but it wasn't until we got away and disconnected from all of the other noises (good and bad) that we realized how desperately we'd needed that space.
We filled our time with a long hike at a beautiful nature preserve. It's impossible to describe the feeling of peace we get from staring up into the trees, being surrounded by nothing but green space and silence. There's something about seeing trees that are decades old and flourishing that puts my own worries into perspective; they've managed to find a way, and we will too. We stumbled on a waterfall and watched it for a while, marveling at the sound of running water, of a stream slowly flowing over rocks. And all the while, we were alone, uninterrupted by schedules or little voices or obligations, to talk and soak in the peace.
We lingered over dinner, took a nap, went out for coffee. And underlying each of the ordinary moments was an odd sense. It's so easy in the noise of every day to lose sight of who we are, not just as individuals, but as a couple. We've tried to be intentional about staying connected, but life so often crowds in (especially in this season where it feels as though life has been turned on its head), and the noise is deafening. Conversations become functional: who needs to be where at what time, what needs to be added to the shopping list, what we should make for supper... We know these things are a part of life, but there's so much more. We soaked up the stillness, the freedom, the space to just be us this weekend, and we found each other. It turns out, under all the change and activity and hustle and bustle, that we're still the same people who used to sit and sip coffee for hours. We're the same people who used to love to hike and soak up the nature around us. We're still the same people who could go an entire weekend talking about everything except what needed to be on the grocery list Monday morning.
And yet, this was a different getaway. So often we come away from these weekends expecting to be taken back to who we were at the beginning, as though we'll somehow emerge like that twenties couple giddy with excitement over life together. This weekend I saw us differently. I saw more confidence, more experience, and a little more grey around that smile I love so much. We didn't go back to the beginning, we went somewhere better. We went to a place that brings with it ten years of life together, shared experiences, memories, hopes. We brought the joys and the sorrows and we came as the people we are now, because of those things. Like the trees flourishing after decades, I felt like the years and the weather had left their mark on us, and it was beautiful. It's such an unusual thing to describe, but in some strange way, it centered us. No, we are not the same, exactly. But we are still us, and we've gotten to this place together.
