My wife, Vickie, enjoys sharing the details of our 17th wedding anniversary—one of our greatest weekends of ministry—an opportunity we could have missed by "saving ourselves." Going into the week, it appeared that it was going to be a relatively quiet weekend. We had made plans for the children to be with a sitter on Friday evening, so that we could have dinner out together. Saturday's schedule was also clear to enjoy being together.

On Wednesday prior to our anniversary on Saturday, our good friends Joe and Joyce telephoned to take us up on an offer we had made earlier that Spring. They had married six years earlier, after Joe's first wife died with cancer. Joyce had become an instant mother to three boys. The past six years had been filled with ministry and raising boys and tight budgets, with no opportunity for the two of them to get away together. They were accepting our offer of childcare for ten-year-old Joey and a weekend honeymoon retreat at our friend's "bed-and-breakfast" type home. So Joey arrived on Friday morning. No problem. He would go to the sitter with our children that evening and easily slide in with our five children. One more does not add much to the activity of five!

That Friday evening as Vickie and I reminisced over dinner in a quiet nook of the restaurant, I received a phone call on my cell phone from a training school about three hours east of Dallas called ALERT (Christian/military type training for young men in character and discipline). Many of these young men fly in and out of the Dallas/Ft. Worth Airport (15 minutes from our home). Sometimes, due to transportation scheduling conflicts, the men have long layovers so we volunteer our home as a place to hang out, rest, eat, and/or sleep. This was the reason for the phone call. Erik did not have a ride until the next day to the ALERT Headquarters. Could he spend the night with us? So two hours later (after our dinner) we picked up Erik at the airport. There were now nine of us for our "quiet anniversary weekend at home."

But there is more! Late that night Cynthia called—a friend of a friend—from New York City—suddenly widowed the previous September by a two-week devastating illness—mother of four children between the ages of two and ten. She was in the midst of a cross-country trek seeking the right place to settle and begin life again. Times Square isn't the most family-friendly place to rear four children alone! Based on an email which we had received earlier in the month, we had thought she would not be coming through Texas since she was running late on her trip. The news—she and her four children and a college student who was helping her drive would be arriving Saturday afternoon. I'll save you the effort—the count was now at 15.

But there is more! After two more phone calls from the ALERT Headquarters, we then had Erik staying for one more night plus two more ALERT men arriving Saturday evening. Saturday afternoon was filled with laughter, games and swimming in the backyard—it's not what you're picturing—our swimming pool is a 6 foot diameter stock tank—so they swam in shifts. Late that Saturday night we gathered for family devotions. The count was now at 17. We watched as four children who were desperately missing their daddy each curled up in a set of strong masculine arms (something our family alone could not have provided). When asked what they missed most about Daddy, each mentioned his touch—his hugs at the end of the day. As they sadly fingered the hair on the ALERT men's arms and we prayed together, it was confirmed in our hearts that God was doing a mighty thing. It was not meant for us to guard our time and space that weekend but to share freely our home and ourselves.

But there is more! On Sunday morning Joe and Joyce called to arrange to pick up their son. The weekend had been a time of refreshing and renewing for them. They invited our family to join them for Sunday lunch. We explained that our family had grown over the weekend and suggested that they bring dessert and join us for lunch. The count was now at 19. Over roast and baked potatoes we tearfully watched as Joe (a widower of eight years) sat across the table from Cynthia (a widow of nine months) and said, "I have been where you are. You don't think you're going to make it. But God is faithful, and with His help YOU WILL MAKE IT. My boys and I are living proof."

We could not have planned or orchestrated that moment. And we could have missed it! How? By guarding OUR time and OUR space. But God had something much bigger and better than we could ever have imagined. We're so grateful we didn't miss it!

It was two months later that God placed Vickie and me in Washington, D.C. in the home of a chef who had cooked for the White House. We were refreshed and renewed through a weekend marriage retreat. The chef asked Vickie what she wanted for dinner that Saturday night. We enjoyed a quiet intimate dinner prepared by one of the best chefs in the country. God had rewarded an open heart and a flexible wife and mother of five.