As I was reading my book this morning, the author made a contrast between doing something meaningful with your life versus going home and sitting on the couch. Now, I agree with the point one hundred percent, but it invited the question: Is my couch really that bad? As I pondered the literal implications of never going home and sitting on the couch, dozens of images flashed before my eyes of moments—big and small, alone and with loved ones, recent and years ago—in which my couch set the scene for love, honesty, change, relationship, rest, meaningful work, and a host of other abstract nouns of which I would never want to trade in. And it made me realize that sometimes going home and sitting on the couch is exactly how you can do something meaningful with your life.
I think of the countless mornings I have carried one of my children like a baby from their bed to the couch, snuggling together in an attempt to wake them up gently. Inevitably the other one wakes up in the process and joins us in the living room, sometimes settling comfortably in beside us and sometimes fighting for the “best” space. What begins as drowsiness develops into play-sleeping until finally someone cracks a real smile or lets a giggle erupt from their mouth and lets us all know the tiredness is now an act and we should really get started with our day.
I think of the teenager who sat across from me on the couch one evening and told me a long story about how her mother had tried, on more than one occasion, to marry her off during lockdown. How she ran away from home when she saw another potential suitor coming and how she was nervous about going back to that home in the school holiday. How she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forgive her mother.
I think of the dark, quiet mornings when I sit on my couch with my Bible and a cup of tea, centering my day on God before the rest of the family wakes up and fills the space on the couch and in my mind. I have lit candles, prayed, cried, kept a long list of gratitude, read my Bible, journaled, and sometimes fallen asleep. Blessed moments in the comfort of my own blessed home.
I think of all the meetings we have had on this couch, planning the holiday program, camp, Sunday school, assemblies, cantatas, and more. It has been a productive space as our colleagues from all ages and departments have, in turn, taken a seat on our couch to pray and imagine and plan and dream. So many ideas have taken root or bloomed from the comfort of our living room.
I think of both times Christian and I sat on the couch together and I told him I was pregnant. The first time was met with a joyful and anticipatory hug as we began to imagine how much our lives were about to change. The second time was met with wide-eyed disbelief, as our daughter was not yet one year old and this was definitely not our plan.
Then I think of the evening after Elliot was born. Patricia sat in her high chair, making a mess as usual. She half paid attention as we watched Jumanji and ate pizza we had ordered in. Christian and I sat on the couch, with 20-hour-old Elliot nestled in the crook of my knee, sleeping peacefully through the commotion of the movie. It was one of our first memories together as a family of four.
I think of sitting side-by-side with a teenager, holding hands and praying after they confessed their addiction to porn and asked for help growing closer to God again. This has been a sacred space. It has been a space of repentance.
I think of how on Thursday mornings the four of us pile onto the couch, everyone except me with eyes still half shut and mouths wide open in yawns as we Skype with my family in an inconveniently different time zone. How as soon as my mom shows the tower of blocks she built or shows the “guess what’s in the bag” bag my children begin to sit up a little straighter and open their eyes a little wider. And how by the end of the conversation they are so awake and riled up that any adult conversation is finally thrown out the window as the toddlers demand any and all attention from both continents.
I think of playing four-on-a-couch with the Good Samaritans, laughing hysterically and making fun of one another for making a bad move in the game. On those Monday nights as we pile twelve extra people into our house for fellowship, Bible study, and service, the couch is quickly filled with more teenage tushies than it is designed to hold as they come here to grow closer to one another and closer to God.
I think of snuggling up to my husband on the couch after we have had a hard conversation, sharing the same space and reminding each other that we are in this together, no matter what. From the days before we were dating when he used to help me with my post-burn stretching while we watched Big Bang Theory (because I liked him, not the show), much of our relationship has transpired in this very place.
I think of the nights I sat on my couch in the dark, breastfeeding one of our babies in the living room so I wouldn’t wake up Christian. Or the nights my baby stayed asleep and I sat alone on the couch to pump milk for an undernourished baby in the children’s home, hoping that what made my own children so fat would work the same wonders on her.
I think of the children who have slept on our couch for a night, excited to have a sleepover and stay up much too late watching movies.
I think of how Patricia and Elliot need only seconds to lay all the couch cushions flat to transform it into their very own bouncy castle, no matter how many times we tell them not too or how many times they bounce off and hurt themselves.
I think of being sandwiched between my two favorite little humans in the evening, teeth brushed and pajamas on, reading Dig Dig Digging one hundred times over, and occasionally another book if they are feeling adventurous that night.
So no, I will not say that going home and sitting on the couch is the opposite of getting up and living a meaningful life. If the events that have transpired on my couch are not full of meaning, I can guarantee I won’t find it anywhere else either. So go ahead—go home and sit on your couch today. See what comes of it.
