Rob Thomas — yes, the Matchbox 20 guy — has a beautiful song in the movie Meet the Robinsons. The opening line of the chorus is, “Our lives are made in these small hours.” I have always loved this tune and countless other songs that exist in “kid” movies, but that line has meant more to me lately.
My name is Ted Randall, and I am a follower of Jesus, husband to the love of my life for almost 25 years, and father of two adult children and two teenagers. My wife and I are currently on the tail end of our four-kids phase and are very close to entering our four-adult-children phase. We have come to relish the small hours.
We were told this would happen by friends and family — parents much wiser than us. The adage is, “The days are long, but the years are short.” But if I’m being completely honest, I was naïve enough to think they might last forever. And I’m not talking about the small hours when someone is vomiting or someone has sat on the countertop by the sink and peeled all the bananas. I’m talking about the time when I would walk in the door and they would hide from me and yell out, “We’re not here, Dad! Come find us!” Or the tiny pink Minnie Mouse Crocs that would rest by the door. I loved those moments so much I maybe hoped they would never end.
But… they grow up. They make friends. They get jobs at Moe’s Burrito Factory and can’t go on the boat anymore. Then one of them joins the Navy! Then one of them gets a boyfriend. My initial reaction to this war on “my time” was to control it. And that worked for a very limited time. “I’ll set the schedule around here.” But deep down I knew that was a short-lived strategy, and there is no going back to the simple time when I could literally put all four of them in a boat and head to the island for a day. And the truth is, this is what we want.
I love Psalm 90:12 (ESV): “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” I believe Moses was attempting to let us know that life is short and not unlimited on this earth. It’s easy to think of days as innumerable or unlimited, but watching our kids grow up provides a whole new perspective. Time is limited. Control is a poor strategy.
So what am I to do now? What is God calling me to do now? I don’t have large swaths of time anymore. Meandering Saturdays are long gone, and grand events are few and far between. This is still a work in progress, but I’m learning to make the most of small hours.
For us, most evenings our teenagers return home, and there are small windows of time to pour into them and catch up. We can’t count on everyone for family dinner because some work, some have practice, church, etc. So my wife and I have switched our strategy, so to speak, and try to be physically, spiritually, and emotionally available to them in the small hours. Some of our best times during the holidays were when everyone would return home and we would catch up for 10–15 minutes.
Like you, sometimes I romanticize everyone at a Thanksgiving table, appropriately dressed and ready to share their thankfulness. And we should do that too. But I would encourage you to think about utilizing the small hours that can have a huge impact.
The clever song I mentioned ends like this: “Time falls away, but these small hours still remain.” Go extra-large on the small hours.
Ted Randall is a licensed marriage and family therapist helping couples create a clear path to longtime marital health. Learn more at rootedmarriagefl.com.