John and I spent an hour with a couple that we care about. Maybe an hour and a half. But it whooshed by much faster than the same amount spent weeding, or scrubbing the kitchen floor.  The conversation was real, and the laughter as nourishing as the food in front of us. Maybe more so, since there are no residual crumbs left but the words haven't faded. 

What feels marvelous to me is that intentional attention is exponentially more satisfying than a whole day of haphazard conversations. Something happens when the premise is clear. 

"This time is about you."

There was a meeting to prepare for the service next Sunday and the minister talked about our relationship with God. The topic question is simple.

"Does God change or is He always the same?" He described a scene where God is listening, face to face, with each of us. Rather than a one size fits all, His response to our struggles, or joy, or thanksgiving adapts. His reply is sensitive to where we are. And I know my mood can shift faster than the tides. Does that mean that God changes, or does it suggest that He cares? 

Back when we had a kindle of little kids I would sometimes try to carve out focused interactions. Somehow twenty minutes alone with one child racked up more brownie points than seven hours shared with four siblings. Imagine that.

Marriages are thirsty for that kind of quality time. As a twosome, or a foursome, I'll take it.