You are the person on my mind
The beauty from God I did find
When you came my dream came true
The truth is, completely, I’m missing you.
This is an open letter about a private issue. I can say things publicly about my love for a certain person and I know many people will relate. When we are far away, geographically, far away from that loved one of all loved ones, there is a sense of missing them despite the fun we might otherwise be having.
The truth is I’m missing you.
When we miss people our hearts yearn for them in irreconcilable ways. We fill our lives with distractions and we know we have to do, for this time, to get through.
What makes a great difference to our missing of important persons in our lives is the permanence of the arrangement. If we are away for six months or more – or permanently, through death or unreconciled separation – we are faced with such an absence that can’t be ameliorated that well by distraction.
Sometimes the separation is by choice and the benefits outweigh – in the ultimate sense – our missing of loved ones. Sometimes being away is necessary. Sometimes it’s enforced on us, the separation.
But the separation I have to contend with is a matter of days; I can allow myself to miss my dear one. And I’m frequently reminded of how much I miss my wife.
Loneliness is what I want to highlight. It’s that loneliness that doesn’t get better that I want to pinpoint. It’s an irreconcilable fact: loneliness. There is little we may do about it, unless, for a time, we fill our minds with some worthy substitute that we can call therapy.
What I can say is it’s okay to be lonely, and, for the basis of such a burgeoning truth, we have the basis for another truth that gives us power. We may draw a fresh hope and confidence that we are never alone. And though God is not the precise representation of the person we are missing, God understands. God understands there is a void that is not able to be filled. And this, of itself, fills us with comfort. We are understood.
What underlies us missing someone is a soul-sense for loneliness that is not easily filled – and perhaps can’t be. God understands. God knows we can’t be ‘fixed’ under the present circumstances and in being ‘heard’ we are, of a sense, ‘fixed’.
© 2014 S. J. Wickham.