Category: marriage

The Quiet of a New Season

Reflecting on the gradual transition to a new and inevitable season of life: empty nesting.

It is definitely quieter around here. Not that she made much noise during her last two years of high school—she often retreated into her “nest” (our nickname for the top floor of our house, where her bedroom is). Still, we knew she’d come down now and then for food or drinks, join us for walks with the dogs, and wander the house in search of her cats. But now? Yes, it’s definitely quieter.

Our youngest has been away at college in the U.S. for over a month now, while her dad and I are back here in Germany—with her cats and our one remaining dog. We are, officially, empty nesters. I can confirm: her nest is empty.

People often ask how things are going in this new stage. I usually say, “It’s quiet and different, but she’s where she’s supposed to be.” Over the past month, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to be an empty nester. It feels less like the dramatic shift of stepping off a plane into a new country, and more like the transition between seasons.

Eventually summer shifts somehow into autumn. You start noticing a few chilly, rainy days, but you’re still wearing your summer clothes—no need to pack them away just yet. Then one day, a tree catches your eye with its changing colors. You’re surprised—how are we heading into another season already? But as the colder days increase and more trees change, it starts to sink in: yes, autumn has arrived.

Raising teenagers is a lot like that. It’s normal for high schoolers to begin pulling away—this slow, natural distancing helps prepare them (and us) for adulthood. When our daughter turned 18, even she wasn’t so sure she was ready for this thing called “adulting.” But this gradual change also gives us, as parents, time to prepare for life without them under our roof every day.

We’ve had children in our home for nearly 25 years. That’s a long season. So what does this next one look like—for me? I don’t know yet. I know it likely involves moving back to the U.S sometime next year, but beyond that, the long-term picture feels a little foggy. That’s hard for someone like me, who loves to plan.

My husband and I do have some exciting plans together—we’ve been preparing for this new chapter for a while. But for me, personally, what are the things I can touch, see, and smell in this new season of life? That’s a good question—and one that will take time, reflection, and prayer to answer.

So, now that I fully realize I’m entering a new season, I’m trying to give myself grace. This transition might take time—a long time—and that’s okay. With each new season comes new opportunities, fresh joys, and unexpected beauty. Sometimes those joys are tucked under a fallen log or hiding in the branches of a tree.

Thank God for the changing seasons.

At Home Together

How can one help a marriage strengthen year upon year? The ability of being home with each other, even when you are away.

My husband isn’t at home on a karaoke stage, nor in a choir or a Zumba fitness class. Similarly, I’m not at home on a fishing boat, in the woods hunting, or working deep within a technical, hands-on problem. Yet, we are home with each other.

As we celebrate our 27th anniversary this year—once again, from different continents—I’m reminded that despite the miles between us, those miles seem to vanish because we are ‘home’ together. I believe that in any marriage or partnership that endures over the years, there must be that shared feeling of ‘being home’ with each other, to navigate life’s trials and joys. ‘Being home’ means feeling safe to be yourself with one another. It means knowing your spouse or partner so well that you’re both committed to supporting each other in becoming the best versions of yourselves—and extending grace and forgiveness when you inevitably fall short. ‘Being home’ is about helping to make what nourishes your partner’s soul a reality.

Today, my husband is ‘home’ in our new home back in the US, working diligently to prepare it for our future life and feeding his soul through quiet and rest. Meanwhile, I am ‘home’ here in Germany, supporting our youngest as she begins her final year of high school. For the past three years, our anniversary has been celebrated across continents due to circumstances beyond our control, such as the challenges of helping our adult children with university moves while we’re overseas. Yet, even when we’re not physically together for these milestones, we’ve remained ‘at home’ with each other. WhatsApp messaging and technology certainly helps, but it still requires communication and prioritization—foundations that are essential in any strong marriage or partnership.

Over the years, we’ve lived in many homes, across the U.S. and now in Europe. I remember countless moments of uncertainty, not knowing where our next home would be—sometimes not even which state or country. Yet, we always reminded each other, and our family, that as long as we were together, we were home. I thank God for the incredible gift of an amazing, supportive, and loving husband with whom I’ve had the privilege of being ‘home’ with for so many years.

We’re not promised tomorrow, but we cherish the gift of the present. I am deeply grateful for the journey of the past 27 years—the ups, the downs, and the wisdom we’ve gained along the way. Most importantly, I am thankful for the gift of being ‘home’ with my husband. I love you, my dear. See you soon.