No more words.

At 45, excessive verbiage irritates me.  

This reality concerns me a bit, considering I am married, have two teenagers, work in leadership development, write books, and speak for a living.  However, a recent conversation with my beloved has shed some light on the why behind the what.  I'd like to share.

My husband and I work together. We may or may not pass one another at various times in the restaurant or offsite office, depending on one another's schedule.  

Yesterday, around 3:00, I'm on my way out the door to pick up our daughter.  Jeromy is sending a text to the team, while our training director and office director are diligently working at their desks.

Me: "Hey."
Jeromy looks up.  I guess my tone indicated I was talking to him. (Insert shoulder shrug emoji)
Me: "I need your face for a minute after you're done."
Jeromy: Nods, while never looking up. Continues to text.
Directors: Laughter and head shakes commence, as they continue to work without missing a beat. (They know and love us.)

He finishes texting, and we exchange about ten words confirming football games, volleyball games, dinner plans, and sleepovers.

Me: "See ya."
Us: "Love, Ya."
Kiss on the cheek.
Me: "I'm out."
Laughter in the background.

Marriage.

Here's the deal, Y'all.  

Jeromy and I have come to terms with the reality that we are given buckets of commodities to spend during the ever-stubborn, non-negotiable 24 hours.  One bucket contains patience.  Lord, help it multiply.  The other includes words.  Yes, as in syllables with meanings.

Can Jesus renew and replenish the buckets?  Yep.  

However.  

We're not perfect, and many times our humanity gets in the way of the multiplication miracle.  To put it bluntly, there is a point in the day when—we're done.

Y'all can relate.

We work with people.  And we love our people.  But people require words.  Lots and lots of words.  When you add two teenagers into the mix, the commodity of verbiage is spent and consumed faster than you can accept or deny an eye roll or a blank stare.  Therefore, when we get to one another, the following might happen:

1) We can have an entire conversation with no words.  Sometimes these "talks" are romantic and super sweet.  I love you and get you, and there is absolutely no need for you to speak for me to know those moments.  And then there are the times when frustration boils over. Eyes dart, body language screams, he goes to his corner, I go to mine; we meet in the middle with arms crossed.  Things eventually right themselves.  It depends on the evening.

2) Jeromy walks in the door, and all I hear are strange sounds from his mouth that should be words but don't quite make it to actual syllable status.  When this occurs, I know we are done speaking for the night.  Don't get me wrong, the temporary no-word status can/and often is a mutual situation.  On those nights, the sooner sleep comes, the better.

Here's our solution to both.  You know what happens after a glorious few hours of sleep?  The buckets replenish!  More words come.  So, Jeromy and I get up a little early, share two cups of coffee in bed, and exchange many words.  Sweet moments, Y'all.

I Corinthians 13 hangs over our sleeping space for a reason.

Flowers and chocolates have taken a back seat to energy and WORDS.  When we anticipate a rare evening (almost a unicorn these days) where our attention is focused solely on one another, we INTENTIONALLY save our words. 

Time has a way of redefining romance, but you know what?  The sound of silence is not such a bad thing, either.  Especially when you're sharing it with someone you love.