I miss my husband.
He is flying somewhere over the heartland as I write.
This is the tenth day of his absence and that, my friends, is too long. He is back for just a short time then off again for an even longer trip, returning shortly before Christmas.
At times I have felt a physical pain missing him.
These absences are like small deaths.
Things have gone amazingly well on the home front, that’s what prayer and vitamins and astonishly low priorities get you. Or maybe it’s what having your priorities astonishly clear (prayer, good nutrition, loving on the kids) gets you.
Paul’s mom is still here cleaning. She had to run a brief errand, so I am breathing here. She’s kicking my can, God bless her. She loves to clean which is a mystery to me. It is humbling to let someone into my actual (as opposed to metaphorical- I mean, Hello! what would I have to blog about?) mess.
Some big things have been happening inside me this week. Oh dear, that sounds like a pubescent girl’s diary entry. Remind me to tell you about despair and surrender, about holding on and hanging in there, about choosing love and staying engaged, about crying it all out and then breathing in, breathing out, about smiling more and choosing to appreciate, about choosing to love, about choosing to love, about choosing to love and being delighted when I was chosen to be loved too.