Work

I'm thankful for The Husband's job. Really, I am. I know that without that job, I probably wouldn't be able to stay home with the kids and live where we do. I love being home with my kids and I love where I live.

Sometimes, his job terrifies me. Not, "just makes me a little nervous" kinda scared. But "makes me sick to my stomach, paralyzed" kinda scared. Especially when he gets called out at night. Even more so if I haven't been to bed yet. Because after I've been asleep and he gets called out, I can usually go back to sleep. But if it's right before I go to bed when he's called, well, that's a whole nother story. I am wide awake and my mind goes lots of places it shouldn't.

What a good opportunity to practice "taking every thought captive."

So tonight he got called at 10:30. He was just falling asleep. Poor guy was not feeling too well. He has a cold as well as some muscle spasms in his chest. And like always, he put in a full day today. Somebody hit a power pole. It's not even in The Husband's territory. But no one else is answering their phone and the police need someone to come. So he goes. It's a 1 1/2 hr drive just to get there. Who knows what he'll find once he arrives. Setting new poles? Nothing major?

So here I am, praying for my man. Praying for my kids daddy. Because I don't know how he does it. How does he stay awake driving that far when he's exhausted and it's so dark? How does he work like he does? How does he skip a second night of sleep this week? He's a one-in-a-million kind of guy with a work ethic that's unusual in today's world.