Empty Nest

I love my kids.  Let's just start with that up front just in case this blog post happens to call my love into question.  I love them.  Always have.  Always will.

But this evening, Joey and I had one of those moments where after a long and rather LOUD afternoon of two extraordinarily rambunctious children clamoring for our attention, we looked at each other and simultaneously said, "Someday we'll have an empty nest."

It's true.  Someday we will have an empty nest.  Twelve to fifteen years from now, it'll happen.

I don't think there is anything wrong with seeking out and desiring alone time with my husband whom I love dearly.  But something about saying those words out loud made me feel a twinge of guilt.  Shouldn't I savor and embrace these moments with the kids while I have them?  Should I really be so easily annoyed at the decibel level in my house?  Should I so easily roll my eyes at the thought of having to tie shoes, clean up spills, or teach my kids to put away laundry for a few more years?


Then I started to wonder.  Does God ever long for an empty nest?  My day-to-day life produces a lot of noise, too.  The decibel level of my life is often high.  A busy, unfocused life produces a lot of clamor, you know.  Even my worship, if done with an improper heart, simply adds to the noise level.  Does He long to get away from my noise?

Does God ever roll his eyes at having to teach me the same lesson over and over, or clean up my messes again and again?  Does he long for the day that I mature and grow up?

Maybe so, but He sure doesn't show it.

In fact, when my life is LOUD and busy, He takes the time to find me in those few quiet moments.  The other day I took Hannah on a little girly date night.  Something was giving her grief in the back seat of the car.  I didn't say a word, but rather I reached my hand back to hers.  We held hands and drove in silence for a while.  Somehow, her life was much better as a result of those few silent moments holding her mom's hand.  It's the same when I settle down and quietly hold my Father's hand as well.

When I make mistakes and God has something to teach me, He often uses circumstances in my life to drive a lesson home.  In an attempt to teach the kids to help with laundry, I dumped all the clean socks on the floor and set the kids to work playing the "matching game."  They quickly informed me at the completion of the game that this this "was not a very fun matching game."   God's lessons in my life are not always fun either, but once complete, they always seem to bring that much needed order and cleanliness.

Does God long for an empty nest?  Yes, I believe so.  But not the same empty nest we might imagine.  He longs for the days when we've listened well, we've learned our lessons, and we're eager to fly to do His will and bring Him glory.  He longs for us to leave the nest and not just fly but soar for Him.

In this sense, I can say without guilt that I long for that same empty nest.  I can only imagine the joy Joey and I will experience twelve to fifteen years from now as we watch from our nest as Jonah and Hannah soar.