When people tell you to cherish your kids while they’re young because they grow up fast, they mean it. We all hear people say it, but it’s said so easily–do we really know what it means? Yea, yea, time flies, but behind those comments is more than just time getting away from us. Nestled into those words are experiences, heartache, emptiness, grief, regret, memories, moments, love, and to be certain, many more intangibles.

Tonight, I walked into Pizza Hut (no, not for myself), and there was a lady sitting with a young boy and they were just talking and enjoying their meal. I’m not sure what it was about that particular scenario, as I see people out with kids all the time, but it hit the center of my heart, and I got a little choked up walking out of there (ok, tears rolled down my face). My thoughts immediately went to the time when my kids were younger…multiple times, actually. It was like seeing a series of snapshots through the years of all the times we went out to dinner; of all the meals we shared at home; and of now, of my empty dinner table.

So many families have dinner in front of the television or separately in their bedrooms or at their computers if they even eat at home. I made a point to always have dinner together at the table so we could have discussions, share our “highs and lows” of the day, and savor that time we were given. I’m so glad that I did! Those memories and discussions are priceless! Shelby and Monica would carry out their chores of setting the table and getting everyone’s drinks, often being overly concerned about whether our guests (if we had guests that night) preferred crushed or whole ice cubes. Those moments we set aside and mandated as routine afforded us opportunities for prayer, laughter, shared ideas, discipline, moral support, and even fussing, but mostly, the chance to grow together as a family and not let the pressures and distractions of a busy life spill over and eventually fill every aspect of our days. We bonded. We learned from each other.   We made memories.

Before Monica left for college, so many people commented to me about being an empty nester. I got so tired of hearing that term—I welcomed anything but that. I thought I was prepared, mentally and emotionally. I’ve since realized that there is no real preparation. There will always be unexpected triggers like the one from Pizza Hut. Or like tonight, when our family pet went to Monica’s bedroom door and barked, searching for her. There will always be a quietness in the house, an emptiness (it really is an empty nest)! It’s not a phase, and it’s not always the same. It’s a process, like grieving a death. I imagine it’s similar. I have moments that remind me this isn’t temporary…this is how it is. They’re gone. What was is no longer, and I can never, ever, no matter how hard I wish, get those days back. So when I see people out with their kids, I want to look them in the eye, and say, “Hey, enjoy these moments while your kids are young. They won’t last forever, they really won’t, and someday, before you’re ready, they’ll be grown—and your house will feel empty.” I know they’ll never truly know what I mean until they experience it.

I am in my third year of empty nesting…and it has taken me the whole time to be able to acknowledge that term. Maybe I should’ve been writing about it all along, but “should haves” and “could haves” can eat away at life. I’m now looking forward to what I can do.

Every day is a new opportunity to grow—can I get an amen? For the first time in a long time, I am reading consistently again. My book collection has continued to grow over the years because my desire and love for reading has never wavered—translation: my collection of unread books has continued to grow. So I will use this time for gain. I am setting goals to read more, and in the last 3 months, I’ve actually read two whole books! This is progress! I plan to grow my mind while I dwindle the stack of unread books.

As for dinner, I deeply cherish the times I can fellowship with my friends over food. I am setting a goal to fill my dinner table in the coming year. My children may be gone, but the seats are there, and the walls are waiting to hear mealtime conversations again. I will let you know how that’s going!

Meal times are so important to building families. This week, if you usually have dinner in front of the television or elsewhere, I challenge you to have at least one meal at the table with the family without outside distractions. Have conversations. Make memories. And if you already have dinner time around the table, I commend you! What a tremendous gift you are giving to your family, not to mention your future self.

Much love…thanks for listening to my heart!