For what seemed like the entire months of November and December (2013), I mourned the scarcity of meaningful friendships here in Switzerland. I was in a “woe is me” pit. My husband and I even stayed up talking about how lonely life as a parent can be, especially in your 20’s, when many people our age are living a lifestyle that involves more sleep, more cute outfits. While we do HAVE friends, and even some friends with children, finding friends to share life with, to be in true community with, to raise our families along side them with like-minded values, is another topic entirely. But my wintery slump has finally ended.
This past week our oldest daughter had a stomach bug and I’m so thankful for that vomity-mess. In the night, as I washed load after load of pukey laundry and bedding, while Daddy held her and spooned her sips of fennel tea, love was there. Lingering in the air was not only the pungent smell of stomach acid, but also the over-powering aroma of love. And it hit me. My husband is my best friend. He’s right here. The funniest person I know. The silliest yet level-headedest. He’s the CEO and I’m the COO (I’m also head of HR and the janitor) and this family is our greatest work; this work is eternal. Even if I feel lonely, grungy, or uninvolved in “the world,” I am reminded that this is our core. Building this family is our highest calling.
Funny how God can use sweet-potato-colored vomit to make me see so clearly that I need my husband’s hands and heart and mind. He needs to know that he is needed and appreciated. Our children need a momma and daddy that love each other and love them with a love that comes like a tsunami from our Father in heaven. I would never sacrifice these precious moments with my family for any other life. I’d rather be here, cleaning up fluids, dabbing sweaty foreheads, and listening to my husband humming to our sick girl, than anywhere in town, with any number of friends, hangin’ out. These are my people, and with them, I am happiest.