A confession

I know that as a super missionary (haha!), I'm probably not supposed to admit this, especially in such a public way, but here is my confession. There are days when I absolutely hate this job. I've tried to analyze what it is that makes it so hard on me and I can't quite put my finger on it. Just hearing Jason coordinating his flight schedule and talking about flying makes me cringe inside.

Part of it is that the schedule is so completly unreliable. This week we waited and waited for the weather to clear knowing that the flying was just stacking up - with a team needing to get in to top it all off. Even though Jason didn't fly those days, he wasn't really off. It is constant waiting and watching and second guessing and planning for the next day. Morning chaos with phone calls and radio calls and weather checks. Running around packing lunches and gearing up only to decide that it was going to be a no fly day. Then off to the hangar to work.

Part of it is that I hate not knowing what is happening to Jason. I don't think I worry too much about his safety. I know he is a great pilot. It just drives me crazy not knowing when he's going to take off. Is he going to get there? Is he going to be able to do the shuttle? Is he going to get stuck somewhere? When will he be back? All day I wonder.... Then I wonder if I should just try and forget about him during the day and get on with mine.

Part of it is that the days that Jason fly end up being all too long and not long enough at the same time. On fly days he is up at 4:30 and out the door by 5:30. I've been trying to get up at 6:00 and have a few minutes before I have to face the kids on my own, but it seems like no matter how quiet I try to be one of the kids is up within 15 minutes of me. When it is Kellan that is the first one up, it means no shower for me until naptime. Having the kids up from so early on my own seems to make the day long, although I suppose that is just part of being a mom. The day seems too short though when we get Kellan and Mirielle to bed and my poor tired husband is ready to go to bed shortly after them. When a couple of fly days stack up, I get lonely for adult companionship and get to feeling pretty disconnected.

I know that a year from know I will probably look back and wonder what the big deal was and why this seemed so hard. The kids will be older, I'll be more used to the schedule. But for now, I struggle with the frustration. So keep praying for us, for me - as we continue to settle in to this ministry.