How to Make Room for Life’s Quieter Moments

I rolled over to the sound of my youngest child entering my bedroom.

3:12 am.

“Can I sleep there?” He asked me in a hushed tone, careful not to disturb my wife.

He just turned nine, and he’s one of my best friends, but in the early hours of the morning, being by his mom is all he wants.

I’m not bothered much by kids in the bed. My wife has an incredible relationship with all five of our children. I attribute that, in part, to never being too quick to kick them out of bed. By the time they’re nine or ten, they never ask anymore anyway. They just stop coming in.

I climbed out of bed and he settled into the warm place on the mattress. He was asleep again before I left the room, closing the door quietly behind myself.

Our mattress is old. Most mornings, I wake up with a sore back. I’m never bothered by getting displaced in the early morning hours. I’m up by 4:00 am anyway.

It wasn’t always that way. When our first child was old enough to come in and disturb my slumber, I often got angry with him. My midsection and my comportment have both softened as I’ve aged. I leave the bed so three of us don’t sleep fitfully.

We now have two adult children, two teenagers, and our caboose. Our oldest left the nest almost two years ago, but we talk every week. It’s not often that my older kids come in to talk anymore, but when they do, no matter how tired we are, we sit up so they can sit down, and we talk about whatever’s on their minds.

In my children’s younger years, I traveled for work with some regularity. USB cameras and recordable DVDs were in vogue, and I was quick to adopt both technologies. I was fortunate to have a job that would pay for such things when they were too expensive for us to afford.

I often made movies for my kids explaining where I was going, what I’d be doing while I was gone, offered guidance that their young minds could hopefully grasp, and read them bedtime stories. There was also a section for my wife with one-sided conversations, thoughts of love, and even reading bedtime stories to her.

We all got older, and I stopped traveling so much. The movies stopped, but our children would gather most nights with their pillows and blankets for story time around the fireplace. I made up hundreds of stories.

It was when our two oldest reached their teenage years and started spending a lot more time with friends that story time stopped. We still spend time together as a family almost every night with those who are home. It’s different now. No better. No worse. Just different.

There’s no guru-led, five-step plan with charts and graphs to having more of the quiet moments in life. The process is supremely simply yet can be overwhelming until you begin.

• First, you have to be open to having those experiences. Our addiction to technology and stuff has robbed us of precious time. Opening ourselves to quiet-moment experiences requires intentional effort. The effort required has increased with the number of technological distractions.

• Second, you have to determine to do something. Anything. Quiet moments that involve other people require some planning but also can’t be forced.

• Third, and most important, you have to execute on it. If you let them, distractions will swallow plans. Don’t let that happen.

In the last three weeks, I’ve started leaving little notes for my children and my wife. It often takes less than five minutes. The future value of those five minutes might well be immeasurable. There’s nothing more important than showing and telling your most important people that you love them and see them.

My wife and I have been fairly consistent in dating each other. Now, I’ve reinstituted date night with my kids. It’s something I used to do; ice cream and a chat were all that was required. Their tastes have gotten a little more expensive, but when I’m old, the money won’t matter. It’s about the strengthened relationships.

Anyone who has raised children will tell you that the time passes like a dream — even when it’s more like a nightmare. Before any of us knows it, they’ve grown, left home, and are continuing the cycle that’s in our very nature.

Grand gestures rarely have the kind of impact that small, consistent efforts do. We can’t expect anyone to show up for us in a certain way, but it’s okay for us to show up how people need or want us to. One of my greatest joys is anticipating my wife’s needs and meeting them before she asks. Making her life a little easier is one of my treasured “responsibilities” as her husband.

I’m barely scratching the surface with the intentional quieter moments, but I’ve seen a difference in myself already and I know that sticking with it will result in a habit that will change my life.

How about you?