As I rush around the house packing all of the things we need for going away this weekend, and it is a FULL car load of things, I think about the weekend Tim is going to have.
While I will be going to stay with friends with the kids on my own he will stay home for the weekend. He will get a full night sleep, which he never has as River wakes at least twice a night due to his floppy airway.
He will have rest and free time, which is a very rare thing.
And he will wake without having a coughing and hysterical child, as River always wakes very distressed and has to be held upright for his airway to clear, usually between 5-6am.
After my own weekend away a few months back I know the feeling of having a few days to myself. It is so restful and so incredible, that every minute and hour felt like christmas.
This gets me to thinking about this season of our life and whether perhaps this is the first time I have ever really loved my husband? In the 11 years we have been together I have experienced many times of feeling in love, enjoying one anthers’ company, treating one another, going on adventures together, supporting one another, and doing things that at the time felt like serving.
Yet, after this rollercoaster of a life since having our beautiful boys, and so many medical complications, surgeries, learning to live with disability, and the sheer physical weight of daily managing non mobile children; giving one another a break feels like the beginning of what it means to really love another.
When it has never cost so much.
Love in the raw, true, into the mess, selfless sort of way; could this be what true love actually is.
Last year as Tim and I both were in the thick of our trauma, I started to really feel deep disappointment of where our relationship has gotten to. So often we let our stress out on each other, and turn on one another in the daily pressures. All the feel good moments seemed to have gone. At times I have really felt like perhaps this relationship has turned sour, and what we had for our season of friendship and falling in love, is now over.
But I have started to lately question, whether this new season of parenthood actually could be the beginning of learning to really love one another. To experience love in a more pure way.
To love from the exhaustion, emptiness, stress, and hard work, while still recovering from deep pain.
To give our last drop to one another, in the trust that we will have enough to face the day, and continue to give our boys all we can.
And suddenly I feel more encouraged, more hopeful.
That a greater love is at work whenever we put the other first, from our much more limited capacity and reserve.
So as I head away today, I am so glad Tim will have a break; and am also glad my turn is next weekend 😉