A rainy Sunday turns into a story of family, faith, and rekindled intimacy; proof that presence, not proximity, keeps love alive in marriage.
If you had walked past my apartment this morning, you would have caught me sitting far too long in the bathroom, typing away on my laptop like a philosopher trapped in the least glamorous corner of the house. It’s my guilty pleasure: toilets are the most undisturbed writing studios in the world. No one interrupts you (unless you live with toddlers, in which case I salute your courage).
Today I was updating my long-neglected LinkedIn profile after getting a gentle nudge from the app. Apparently, it’s been ages since I refreshed anything besides my posts. The realization came after last week’s IPC networking event; proof that sometimes it takes being in a room with new faces to notice the cobwebs in our online ones.
Meanwhile, my husband and our youngest were in deep conversation about a “fun project,” which in their language means brainstorming business model, drawing diagrams, debating revenue models, and laughing at their own brilliant jokes. Seeing them huddled together over imaginary empires made me think: wow, my empty-nester trial period still comes with bonus background noise. I like it.
By lunchtime, the rain had stopped, and so had my stomach’s patience. We headed out in search of food. Now here’s the jackpot: one humble place selling both Burger Bangor (my husband and kid’s love language) and batagor (my personal comfort food). Everybody wins. Plus, they serve thick, savory meatball soup. All three of us ate like royalty, added drinks, plus three takeaway packs, and still only paid IDR 140,000. That’s under ten dollars for a family feast. I almost wanted to write them a love letter.
Post-lunch, we went straight to church. Pastor Jose Carol spoke about what it means to be God’s church: unity that transforms us internally, strengthens us externally, and points us to eternity. You know you’re listening to a senior pastor when the delivery feels like being wrapped in a story instead of hammered by a lecture. I walked out lighter, reminded that we’re never meant to do faith or life alone.
And then came my daughter’s little act of thoughtfulness. She suggested we buy snacks for her teacher who loves snacking. Who am I to resist that? We bought the snacks, descended the escalator, and I casually mentioned we’d never tried the gelato there. “I want gelato,” she declared immediately. So, of course, back up we went. She got her gelato, I got sugarcane juice, and I thought: sugar rush is coming. LOL. After that, we dropped her off at her dorm and we returned home, back to our current empty-nester training program. My husband gamed, I blogged.
Later at night, we initially watched a film about Guinness, because he’s missing Ireland. Turned out it’s actually a series, and honestly a bit boring for me. So, we switched to Fall for Me. Now, let me give you a friendly warning: don’t watch it if you’re single or if you don’t have a partner to hold onto afterward. The story leans into intimacy in a way that stirs more than just emotions.
For us, it turned into something memorable: our own kind of “after credits scene.” After six weeks of careful recovery from my hysterectomy, my husband and I finally "reconnected". And let me just say… it was intimacy in the fullest sense. Healing, joyful, and grounding. Just like a long-awaited exhale. đź’Ź
It also tied beautifully with what Pastor Jose preached earlier that day. He reminded us that intimacy isn’t only physical; it’s emotional and spiritual, too. You can live in the same house, share the same bed, even rest your head on the same pillow, yet still feel miles apart if your hearts and souls aren’t truly connecting.
That’s why it matters so much to intentionally “accelerate” back to one another on a regular basis. For us, that’s our little ritual called #pacaranmingguini. Weekly dates when we set aside household logistics, bills, and parenting talk, and instead just be with each other. To laugh, to dream, to really listen. It’s our way of tuning our hearts back into harmony, not just our calendars.
Because intimacy is less about proximity and more about presence. And when both body and soul are aligned, that’s when marriage feels like a sanctuary again.
Love,
Nuniek Tirta Sari
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