Saturday, September 23, 2006



When I was a kid and I went to camp or moved to a new school, everyone would always talk about loneliness. I never really felt it though, when I was supposed to. Loneliness, I guess, is supposed to hit us the hardest when we don't have the emotional and social mechanisms in place to fight it. In other words, when we're immature. When we're young.

You hear about soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan, and we're told that they're homesick. But are they lonely? Probably. Even though they have, in some instances, trained for years with the units they are in combat with, they are as individuals probably lonely.

I came out to Utah to work. I'm going to change my driver's license to a Utah license. I'm going to change my car registration to Utah (unless I live over the border in Colorado, then you change the name of the state). I'm here. I've met several people that will be key in my life.

Pastor D, a nice guy who helped me get a job and is doing a great job ministering in a difficult place. Fernando, my boss, who gave me a job at a great wage. Pat, who has sort of taken me under his wing, gives me advice about the field from how to act on it to what to wear to what to make sure I'm safety conscious about.

But in all of this, I have no permanency upon which to build friendships. I feel lonely, even though it's not rational. I think there is a silly reason for this too. You see, without a place to call home, I'm convinced that a part of me is missing. You see, I am a host. I love to host people, and in people coming over, I find great satisfaction. But a home is also a place where a person can "hide" if they want to. A home is a man's castle, or so the saying goes.

Why am I so lonely? I don't know. Maybe loneliness feels like a lot of things. Maybe loneliness feels like being nervous about doing well at a job; I've never done physical labor, and I am pretty sure I have a better education than the majority of "roughnecks." Maybe loneliness feels like not knowing where I'm going to live when I get back from the oil field. Maybe loneliness feels like a lot of things.

Writing about this makes me feel a lot better, but I know that until I have a place, I just won't be at the top of my game.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Remember though, that you aren't alone. God promises to always be with you. (Hebrews 13:5). He's got a great plan for you AND the men you are working with.