I wrote about this once in 2011, so forgive the repetition but it is a little different this time. In 2011 I'd never been this far from home nor for this long, and had never been homesick before. I didn't recognize what was going on initially, then. Even so, I knew I'd be back home soon, so I experienced it mostly as a sense of wrongness: the trees were wrong, the dappled sunlight wasn't quite the right angle, the background sounds weren't quite right, the temperature was above 2°F.
This time, I've been aware of it simmering in the background for quite a while. Emotions have been running right next to the surface. Generally easily kept at bay by 'counting the cost' or reflecting on vocation or just plain keeping busy ("What was that verb tense? Do we need more cauliflower?"). But like most times when you keep busy to avoid thinking about something, it's not dealt with. Today I was caught unexpectedly by tears after an email about the passing of a friend's mother. I then let myself think about missing my family, my friends, folks I worked alongside.
Our kids on the the other hand don't seem to avoid it. They are happy, excited about the new things, thinking about their new friends, school events, exams or learning cricket, but they are also absolutely aware.
This morning Jack was helping Annie get up to get ready for school.
AE: "I miss my best friend" (Jonathan)
JT: "Yeah. I know. I miss my best friend too. But at least we have each other."
And, as is so often the case, I learn from my children, rather than the other way 'round.
This time, I've been aware of it simmering in the background for quite a while. Emotions have been running right next to the surface. Generally easily kept at bay by 'counting the cost' or reflecting on vocation or just plain keeping busy ("What was that verb tense? Do we need more cauliflower?"). But like most times when you keep busy to avoid thinking about something, it's not dealt with. Today I was caught unexpectedly by tears after an email about the passing of a friend's mother. I then let myself think about missing my family, my friends, folks I worked alongside.
Our kids on the the other hand don't seem to avoid it. They are happy, excited about the new things, thinking about their new friends, school events, exams or learning cricket, but they are also absolutely aware.
This morning Jack was helping Annie get up to get ready for school.
AE: "I miss my best friend" (Jonathan)
JT: "Yeah. I know. I miss my best friend too. But at least we have each other."
And, as is so often the case, I learn from my children, rather than the other way 'round.
WE are homesick for you all as well- as you are part of our home here, and far away. It feels as thoughI woke up one morning and someone had cut down all the trees in our woods, and we looked out the window and saw just a barren landscape. That is what it feels like to have you so far from home….. But we also understand and send you our love and our prayers and praise the hard work of what you are doing. Our arms around you all.
ReplyDeleteMy heart groans for you. Discouragement is probably always lurking, not to mention a little bit of "overwhelmed"... it will pass and I am so happy you have the blessed busyness and innocence of youth to keep you focused. This has been a great couple of hours catching up on your lives. Love you all!
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