The phrase "recreational companionship" first became a part of our family vocabulary last year when my husband and I went through a 12-week marriage course with a small group from church.
Part of the class had each of us identify our personal hierarchy of emotional needs--the things we value and require most to thrive in relationship with our spouse. One of the categories we were asked to consider was "recreational companionship," which reflects on how hobbies, activities and time spent together in shared interests impact marriage and family life.
At the time both my husband and I ended up fairly middle-of-the-road when rating our need for recreational companionship. The need for this landed in our top five, but just barely. We laughed a little over how our lives had changed from the earlier years of marriage when we did most everything together, to our current zone-defense, divide-and-conquer mentality honed while raising three kids.
"Recreational companionship? I wish! Who has time for that?" I thought wistfully.
Still, I couldn't escape the realization: we had nearly erased spending time together in fun and leisure from our marriage. So many of the things we loved and enjoyed doing together now absent from our friendship and marriage, because they were no longer easy once we'd started a family.
Had we sacrificed growing our relationship in this area, for more convenience?
The thought gnawed a little at me from the back of my mind over the next several months, but I left it there as time pressed on, and the demands of family life filled days, nights and every space in between.
Then recently, our kids were invited for a summer visit with their grandparents who live 500 miles away from our home in Tennessee. Having just wrapped our first year of home schooling, and staring a long, hot, southern summer with restless children in the face, we took our parents up on their generous offer, knowing a break would be good for all of us.
Initially, my husband and I thought we would head to our favorite beach for a few days of rest, but in the end decided on a stay-cation--spending the week hiking nearby waterfalls, going to the movies in the middle of the day, browsing for hours in a bookstore and kayaking with friends. The decision to stay in town and reconnect with many of the recreational activities we had been missing turned out to not only be a gift, but an opportunity God used to bring me back around to that conversation I had been avoiding since the marriage course.
Over the past decade of having babies, adopting a baby, raising all the babies, I began to see ways I had boxed my life in, boxed my marriage in, boxed my family in.
From somewhere inside the piles of diapers, child-proof cabinet locks and multiple nap schedules I started living as if recreational enjoyment was a memory of good times passed...or at least on hold until the kids were grown.
But here's the thing, my babies aren't babies anymore.
None of them are even in diapers, and haven't been for quite some time.
Yet, I was still operating under that boxed-in mindset from years prior.
Gently, God began showing me some of the places I had stopped allowing Him to challenge, change and grow me. Having the time together with my husband to enjoy some old hobbies again, brought me much needed joy and energy-full gusts of fresh wind to tattered, limp sails. I knew when the kids returned home we should, and more importantly could, keep some of the rediscovered fun alive, even if it wasn't easy.
On Father's Day, which coincidentally was also our 18th wedding anniversary, we celebrated with a long family hike. Together, my four companions and I scaled rocks, tripped over tree roots and splashed in waterholes. It was an exhausting, patience-challenging, imperfectly perfect day.
Time alone as a couple will always remain essential for our marriage and parental health, but I am learning our recreational companionship doesn't have to be exclusive to husband and wife.
Adventure need not be placed on a deferment plan.
Daughters and son, mother and father, sisters and brother --every relationship within our family unit benefits from exploration, facing challenges together and overall fun, even when it doesn't come easy.
Is hiking trails with a 4-year-old a seamless experience? Umm, no.
Can our ten-year-old navigate a kayak or will she spend her day caught up in brush and mud?
There is really only one way to find out.
Meltdowns will happen; there will be tears, and moments when we question our sanity, but I can't help but smile knowing laughter, deeper connection to God and each other, and life-long recreational companionship awaits.
Originally Published 9/28/2015