Time is a funny thing.

We rush and hurry and race through our days, never feeling there are enough hours for what needs to be done. Collapsing each night with a sigh, and mentally bumping the items not crossed off our to-do list over to tomorrow's.

There's just not enough time.

We wish away the seasons because in the moment they are too cold, too hot, too rainy, too humid, but then we pray for more sweet moments with our babies because we know it all actually speeds past us faster than we can imagine.

There's just not enough time.

We dream about the what-ifs and the maybe-one-days, and cast them aside for another lifetime because those kinds of goals take dedication and perseverance and sacrifice.

And we know there's just not enough time.

And then we sit on a bench by a trickling fountain with the loves of our lives and time stands still.

There is no rush, no to-do list ... just us.

Talking, laughing, planning, dreaming together. And we start to see time in a different way.

Time is whatever we want it to be. It's ours, and we choose what we do with it ... how we fill each day, each moment. It's a beautiful task to have.

And then we decide that we're never going to have "enough" time, but what we do have is going to be good.