It niggles at me that I don't make time more often. Going out with couples to offer a listening ear is part of my jam, and a source of real joy. Yet I could berate myself for not doing it more often.
Recently, John and I had lunch with a couple who has a new baby. He cooed contentedly in a carrier on the table while we enjoyed our food. He never cried.
It occurred to each of us that the last time we were together the mood was vastly different. Work life had reached a fever pitch, she was pregnant, and no one was getting enough sleep.
But today, life felt different. A new job meant a decline in stress as well as ten fewer hours of commuting. This baby was both adorable and content. Her job, too, was going well even as she squeezed it in between parenting their children. They had a plan in place that was helping their oldest child be her better self, even with the new baby to share attention with.
I was amazed.
Perhaps if we had met every month, the difference would not have been so dramatic. When things get better gradually, it can escape our notice.
When I walked back to my car, I gave a quick prayer of thanks that the gap between today and our last visit was wide enough to give the blessings a chance to shine.