Missing

Over the course of the last several weeks, the back pain that severely limits life as I prefer to know it pushes me to the edge.  To the edge of sanity might be pushing the bounds of the truth, but I constantly am pushed to the edge of my pain threshold.  Pain, for me, often feels like an arbitrary strike from the hand of God or Satan, depending on my perspective at the particular moment pain shoots through my back, hip, and leg.  At 3am with sleep as difficult to grasp as the wind, I wonder "Why do I have to experience this?  How long is it going to last?  Is there any point to it?"

The other night I had an epiphany as I writhed on the floor in the middle of night.  Despite the cries to God for help and relief, which He did not answer in the moment, I realized I more clearly feel what I am missing because of the pain.

I miss sleeping next to Bethany when the pain prevents me from resting peacefully in bed and I'm left scrambling for relief face down on the floor for hours at a time.
I miss sitting close to Bethany on the couch while we watch our favorite tv shows.
I miss out on being able to lift Wyatt up freely and easily when he raises his hands for Daddy to rescue him from his crib or he just wants me to hold him.
I miss carrying Wyatt around just because he wants a better viewpoint on the world around him.
I miss being able to roll around on the floor and be playful with him.  This however has not prevented him from headbutting my stomach when I'm lying on my back.
I miss Bethany being able to freely wrestle around with me when she gets her late night burst of energy.
I miss feeling like I could protect my family if I needed to fight off an intruder (hopefully that's fantasy land anyway, but still...)

Pain leaves me feeling isolated and that I'm missing out on the two people I love the most.  I miss them and I'm only a matter of inches or feet away from them.  To be physically close and still experience distance is almost as excruciating as the physical pain itself.

I'm extremely aware of what longings I have right now.  I want to be close to my family, to enjoy them through words AND through touch.  I'm hoping that God quickly answers my prayers to heal, but I also wonder if He is using suffering to make me not only miss my family, but to miss (hope for) HOME.  With all my hopes of being an older father who can chase his son feeling less than certain at times, I have to wonder "what if I can't do what I wish?"  Maybe I'm supposed to balance the longings for life here with the longings for eternity in a perfectly glorified body (which I'm guessing doesn't come with bulging and degenerative discs)?  Maybe I'm supposed to miss a time, a place, and an experience that is yet to come?  Is this some way that I can see "to live is Christ, but to die is gain?"  If it is, I don't want to miss it.