“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

Entry Eight


“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”  Matthew 6:34

The mind is a very interesting and conflicted part of a human being. I’m convinced the only thing more interesting and conflicted would be the heart. In my experience my heart and my mind don’t always work together very well. My heart often feels things that my mind over-thinks into oblivion.

I am a worrier by nature.

I’m not sure if it’s possible to inherit something like that, but if it is possible I am convinced I did. When my little brother was about 5 he gave my dad an oblong shaped flat pebble type rock that was about an inch wide and a couple of inches long. My dad called it his “worry rock”. When my dad passed about 5 years later I found that rock in the contents of his pants pocket and he had rubbed his worries on that rock so often that he had rubbed an indention with his thumb.

I wish I still had that rock, it would come in handy these days for me.

In my case, silence leaves the door wide open for worries, heartache and over thinking. I write letters to my husband every day. Those letters contain a lot of the things I am feeling about this entire situation. It’s kind of like talking to a wall right now; there aren’t any responses. He said he has written me every day but because he didn’t get out of the S.H.U. until last Wednesday and wasn’t able to buy stamps until Thursday I haven’t received a letter from him yet. He calls, daily so far, but we can’t get into a very deep discussion about feelings in the short time he has on the phone. Plus, deep discussions about feelings make me cry and it’s pointless to cry during the few minutes of voice time we have each day.

So I worry.

Do you know what worry does? It takes away joy and peace. It doesn’t stop any of the bad stuff from happening; it just stops you from enjoying the good stuff today. It’s like rocking in a rocking chair: You are always moving but never going anywhere.

I worry about how he is feeling. I worry about our future together. I worry if he has decided it would be easier to not have anyone on the outside to worry about…or if he even worries about me at all.

Does he think about me all day like I do him? Does he miss me? And I worry why he doesn’t miss me if he doesn’t (In reality I know he does, but I get lost in those dumb worries sometimes). I worry he will forget about me (Again, I know that isn’t going to happen). His life seems to be moving on with a new normal (not one he would have chosen) and it’s not a life I am involved in. I worry that one day I may become nothing more than just the person who puts money on his commissary account.

Will his new life become so busy (if prison life can be that busy) that the phone calls and letters will stop? I worry about everything, even stuff I seem to make up (like the things above that in reality I know would never happen). I worry about scenarios that “might” happen or could happen.

It is maddening.

I know he loves me, or he did when he entered the facility 13 days ago. How does he feel now? The same? Different?

I worry. I worry all the time and if I am not worrying I feel guilty that I am not, so I find something to worry about.

I know that isn’t the definition of crazy but it should be.

Now, much of what is written above isn’t at all fair to my husband. It makes him sound bad and like he hasn’t done what he should to make sure his wife knows she is loved. That’s not true, he has. I can’t imagine how hard it is to love someone like me who worries the way I do, it has to be a challenge.  Everything I mentioned above is just my mind over thinking and excessively worrying about things that actually don’t even exist. I know he loves me fiercely. I also know that it will kill him to read what I wrote above and know I am thinking things like that in the dark parts of my mind. One of the best things about “us”, is that I am the worrier and he can talk me down. He is very good at it. And I miss that.

That’s why my worries are having a field day right now, because he isn’t here to talk me down from them.

So why the doubts and the questions?

Satan, that’s why and I know that. My mind is no good for me. The devil can plant himself in there with all that worry and doubt and make me a basket case in a quick minute. He can have me doubting the most absolute things I know to be true about God and my husband quickly. Worry is one of my biggest problems that I need to overcome. It is a wedge between me and Jesus.

I know this but I struggle.

Eventually we will find a good routine for communication and it will quell the worries that run rampant right now. I will start getting letters from him and I will feel more connected being able to see his feelings and know more about his daily life. There will be visits where I can see him face to face and see his feelings and emotions. It will get easier, I know that.

But goodness, I never anticipated the struggle of the transition.

It’s never easy to pour your heart out to someone with no response and it feels like that’s what I have been doing for 13 days now. I know the response will come, but I am not patient and in the meantime my mind loves to worry.

I’m trying to learn to put the worry to rest, it’s a very long learning process for me. I fail more often than I succeed, so I just keep trying and repeating my life-verse over and over when the worries are overwhelming:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”        Philippians 4:6-7


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