For nearly two decades, I had TOO much to do. I was building a custom car, reading and studying for my life calling, mentoring younger men at church, working very hard at a job I didn’t like and remodeling and adding on to a house that I lived in with my wife and four children!
…all at the same time!
I am getting a great deal of time alone these days…
Yesterday and today, both my wife and daughter have had to work at night. They get home just before I climb into bed…if I stay up late.
Since I have to leave at 6:15 in the morning, I have recently gone a day or two without talking to them.
I suppose I should be grateful…
I invested the time in a very important, time sensitive project that was beginning to weigh on my mind…
But, I miss the company…the conversations…the companionship.
I guess this just proves how much my wife and children have changed me.…
or maybe not.
I am an introvert by nature. I understand that to mean that I am energized and motivated internally. An extrovert is energized and motivated by people and therefore seek out social contact and excitement. Neither is better or worse than the other…just different.
The differences show up particularly strong at social events. My extroverted wife LOVES ‘mingling’ at parties. I, on the other hand, find it VERY stressful. I just can’t do it. Each time, I make a valiant effort but I am like a third wheel.
Usually, after expending enough effort to enable me to tell my wife (with a clean conscience) that I DID try to mingle, I find a place where I can just sit and watch people. Inevitably, I am eventually joined by others who are like me and we then end up engaging in a great conversation that makes some of the extroverts a little jealous.
I think this also partially explains why being a husband and father has been so fulfilling…
My wife and children have become this introvert’s very close friends.
But, as the seasons change in nature, so they change in life. Winter is setting in.
The leaves (my children) have fallen off the tree. They are no longer pulling sap up from the roots of the tree.
I am being forced to rest. I am being forced to step back and look at life from a broader perspective.
I am 50 years old and in reasonably good health.
I do not think that I have begun to walk in my calling yet.
My heart impatiently paws at the ground with it’s psychic hoof wondering, “When does the next race start? What is the next race?”
That question seems to grow in scope nearly daily.