Busyness does not cure loneliness

I tend to be this person that feels the need to fix things by doing things.  If something is wrong, I do something about it.  If something is broken, I try to fix it.  If I’m stressed, I work harder.  I always stay insanely busy and do more and more and more.  And with my current life situation, I try to distract myself from the sadness and loneliness I feel without my husband by finding things to do.  We are constantly on the go, and it is downright exhausting!  However, I felt that it was working.  All of the busyness was serving its purpose.

I was wrong.  I have found that at the end of a day crammed full of activities and errands and visiting and people and chaos, there is still an empty bed, silence, and tears.  No matter how great I think I’m doing in the midst of doing, each day ends the same.  The quiet suffocates me, and every bit of my being yearns for my other half to be next to me.  No matter how accustomed I get to our daily routines and schedules without his assistance, I am not able to get used to the loneliness.  I am simply not a whole person without my love!

Ironically, Kirby and I seem to experience our highs and lows together even when we are separated by thousands of miles.  This weekend was definitely a low for me, but I tried to put on my happy voice when he made his weekly phone call last night.  Oh, the sound of his voice made my heart skip a few beats!  But by the time I said hello, his emotions got the best of him.  Oddly enough, it was almost a relief… neither of us had to pretend all is okay.  So together we wept, grateful to be able to share our misery with one who understands.

While I understand his homesickness, it has been difficult to put mine into words.  But I think that I am indeed homesick.  Yes, I am “home,” in our house, with our children, doing the same-old-same-old.  Yet this is not home to me.  This experience has taught me that home is a complete family. The girls and I all feel incomplete without him here, so we’re all a little homesick.  Our home is not home unless the four of us are together.  And for the rest of my life, my home will only be where my husband is.  So, for now, I am homesick, praying my way through it, and counting down the days until I get to be “home” again.

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