I’m in love with you but not with your work hours.
You’re up before dawn ready to make that daily commute—that daily sacrifice. This is in spite of knowing you’ll probably not be back home before dinner because you seldom are. You more than likely won’t make it home before the kids’ bedtime either.
But, you still do what has to be done—work. How long will you work today? Fourteen hours? Fifteen? Say what, just 12?! Sad to say—we’ll take it.
Every day, I check my app (Life360) to see what time you left. Every day, I’m hoping you’ll make it home at a decent time from work. Every day, you are missed.
While you’re working those crazy-long hours, I’ll just be here . . . right over here . . . at home.
I’ll be squashing sibling squabbles, taming toddler meltdowns, preparing lunch, cooking lunch as well as dinner, doing laundry, going to the bathroom (that’s a huge deal, OK), doing the dishes, making phone calls, changing diapers, and—wait for it—homeschooling.
Do you even know the half of it, dear husband? Probably not, because well, you’re working All. The. Time!
Before school, the kids and I pray for your day. We pray for your hours to get better.
As you know, our kids don’t take your working hours lightly either.
Countless times have I sent our daughter to bed before you’ve made it home. Most nights she goes to bed hopeful she can stay awake long enough to hear you come home so she can grab a quick hug and kiss goodnight.
When you do finally come home, I let the kids have their moments with you before I start to engage.
We’re both tired.
Because of that, we really don’t have much to say. And before you know it, you’re asleep. It’s frustrating. We are all frustrated—even you.
While you aren’t home much, you sure are working hard. You’re providing for us. Now, that’s not to be taken lightly
Not seeing you much leads to many emotions: anger, sadness, and loneliness (to name a few). I’m wearing so many hats, often alone. Being a mother, wife, nurse, chef, taxi, teacher, accountant, home manager, and disciplinarian. Phew! All while trying to maintain my sanity, control my anger, and not overdose on aromatherapy (is that even possible?).
Some days are much harder than others, but I have to remember my husband is doing the Lord’s work, and I am, too.
During my toughest days, I need to remember God says He will never leave me or forsake me (Hebrews 13). He also won’t suffer me to be tempted more than I am able, but He will provide a way of escape (1 Corinthians 10).
The hardest thing to do is to choose to escape. But I’m working on it. I’m working on complaining less and counting my blessings more. I choose to pray more, love more, and be patient.
Yes, I have a ton of responsibilities on my plate, but I’m sure you have an exponential amount on yours, too. And while I’m able to eat lunch and dinner with our kids, you often can’t—that must hurt.
I know you’d rather be home tickling, belly-biting, hugging, and kissing our littles. I know you’d rather be taking our son to football practice and attending orchestra concerts.
I know you miss us. But you’re faithfully serving God and sacrificing for our family. For that, dear husband, I thank you. I thank you for your patience with me, too.
For those days when you make an effort to be available via text. For the rare times you call me on your lunch break instead of taking a nap in the car—it means so much.
To all of you who are feeling defeated when your husband doesn’t work a nine to five job, hang in there.
This is just for a season.
Pray hard, be patient, forgive, encourage one another, make time to chat, and don’t stop loving him.
Support him as he supports you. Things will get better, hopefully. Eventually. Just be sure to hold on to him extra tight when he is home.