Someday when the kids are grown, things are going to be a lot different. The garage won’t be full of bikes or electric train tracks on plywood and I’ll actually be able to park both cars neatly in just the right places. Someday, when the kids are grown, the sink won’t be choked up with rubber bands or paper cups and the blender won’t stand for six hours coated with the remains of a midnight chocolate milkshake. Someday, when the kids are grown, the telephone won’t look as if it’s growing out of a teenager’s ear. It will simply hang there, silently, amazingly available, free of lipstick, human saliva and mayonnaise. Someday, when the kids are grown, I won’t have to answer; “Daddy, is it a sin that you’re doing 47 in a 30 mph zone?” Or promise to kiss a rabbit goodnight, or wait forever until they get home from dates. Someday, when the kids are gone, the place will begin to take on a … touch of elegance. The clink of china and silver will be heard on occasion, the crackling of the fireplace will echo through the hallway. The phone will be strangely silent, the house will be quiet … calm … always clean … and empty … and we’ll spend our time not looking forward to someday, but looking back to yesterday and thinking… “Maybe we could baby-sit the grandchildren and get some life back into this old place!”

Chuck Swindoll