I remember when I put Pat on a plane to head to Nebraska for a week last year.
All sorts of things were going through my head-what if the plane crashed, what if he got into a car accident while there, what if he were in the middle of a shootout in Beatrice?
Obviously, it all was very extreme but I was afraid to let him go because I didn't know if I would get him back. I half expected God to let us get engaged and then take him from me. *knocks on wood*
I remember I put on a brave face when I left him at the airport, I got in the car, and I cried all the way home, got home and cried myself to sleep.
After a day or so I began to realize that I was going to be ok, and indeed, by the end of the week I was.
But that week felt like it lasted forever, and words couldn't express how so very happy I was to see him walking back from the terminal.
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All sorts of things were going through my head-what if the plane crashed, what if he got into a car accident while there, what if he were in the middle of a shootout in Beatrice?
Obviously, it all was very extreme but I was afraid to let him go because I didn't know if I would get him back. I half expected God to let us get engaged and then take him from me. *knocks on wood*
I remember I put on a brave face when I left him at the airport, I got in the car, and I cried all the way home, got home and cried myself to sleep.
After a day or so I began to realize that I was going to be ok, and indeed, by the end of the week I was.
But that week felt like it lasted forever, and words couldn't express how so very happy I was to see him walking back from the terminal.
So I know the feeling. I honestly do.
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