Dawn: The Best Time to Talk
I've heard from my grandparents that the crack of dawn is the best time for husband and wife to talk. Not planned, that's what happened with me and my spouse Monday morning. With how the entire course of our intimate conversation went on, I have proven that what my grandparents once taught me is true.
We had a bad weekend. Husband got rear ended Friday night, misunderstanding on Saturday, and came Sunday, a trip to the hospital's emergency room. It was a long, tedious, rough three straight days. We were both emotionally drained. Both were out of strength. My husband said a prayer that night after we took our daughter to the hospital. The bad things that happened during our weekend made him realize of one very important thing in our relationship that we haven't done in a while. I can't remember the time since we prayed together as a couple. Our daily prayers normally happened before meal, and it's a general prayer. It's usually a prayer for everyone and everything. It's unlike our couple prayer wherein we pray exclusively just for us, our marriage, and our daughter. Both of us would say a prayer. But that night, I didn't have the strength to do my part. But that night also, my husband stood up as our pillar. He'd proven to me, to himself, and to our family that he is the leader of our home. He is the strong post that defends and protects us from the unpleasant things of this world. He exactly knew what to do despite the ebbing of his inner strength. He knew how and where to refill it. Prayer. Abba. Father.
I woke up at three in the morning and was unsuccessful to go back to sleep. Around five o'clock, I noticed him waking up. I was a bit guilty because I might have stirred his sleepiness after he saw me laying on bed, fully awake. I decided to move and lay beside him (our daughter sleeps in between), hoping to go back to sleep as he wrapped his arms around me. But, we ended up conversing. It was a meaningful conversation. I didn't feel that much closer to my other half in the many talks that occurred between us as husband and wife. That morning was different. It felt very light. There was no feeling of heaviness inside. It felt like we were refueled. Free of stress. Like a new, beautiful beginning. A new day. A new promise. His promise—the Father.
The first ray of the day showed up after two hours of non-stop chat. We talked and discussed a lot of things that matter to us most. And of course, there's also those moments of just kidding around, making each other giggle. It was a "fat but healthy" conversation (I hope you know what I mean (: ).
I would very much love to have the same kind of conversation with my husband again. Time of the day matters. I know it's not going to happen everyday (I do not expect it to). That's the beauty of it. It's quite special that's why it's rare.
We had a bad weekend. Husband got rear ended Friday night, misunderstanding on Saturday, and came Sunday, a trip to the hospital's emergency room. It was a long, tedious, rough three straight days. We were both emotionally drained. Both were out of strength. My husband said a prayer that night after we took our daughter to the hospital. The bad things that happened during our weekend made him realize of one very important thing in our relationship that we haven't done in a while. I can't remember the time since we prayed together as a couple. Our daily prayers normally happened before meal, and it's a general prayer. It's usually a prayer for everyone and everything. It's unlike our couple prayer wherein we pray exclusively just for us, our marriage, and our daughter. Both of us would say a prayer. But that night, I didn't have the strength to do my part. But that night also, my husband stood up as our pillar. He'd proven to me, to himself, and to our family that he is the leader of our home. He is the strong post that defends and protects us from the unpleasant things of this world. He exactly knew what to do despite the ebbing of his inner strength. He knew how and where to refill it. Prayer. Abba. Father.
I woke up at three in the morning and was unsuccessful to go back to sleep. Around five o'clock, I noticed him waking up. I was a bit guilty because I might have stirred his sleepiness after he saw me laying on bed, fully awake. I decided to move and lay beside him (our daughter sleeps in between), hoping to go back to sleep as he wrapped his arms around me. But, we ended up conversing. It was a meaningful conversation. I didn't feel that much closer to my other half in the many talks that occurred between us as husband and wife. That morning was different. It felt very light. There was no feeling of heaviness inside. It felt like we were refueled. Free of stress. Like a new, beautiful beginning. A new day. A new promise. His promise—the Father.
The first ray of the day showed up after two hours of non-stop chat. We talked and discussed a lot of things that matter to us most. And of course, there's also those moments of just kidding around, making each other giggle. It was a "fat but healthy" conversation (I hope you know what I mean (: ).
I would very much love to have the same kind of conversation with my husband again. Time of the day matters. I know it's not going to happen everyday (I do not expect it to). That's the beauty of it. It's quite special that's why it's rare.
