Loving a Missionary

So I found this awesome poem that I fell in love with. Basically my life right here :)

Loving a missionary isn't all sappy,
the life it demands of you isn't so happy.
It's mostly the having, but not getting to hold,
it's being so young and feeling so old.
Its life of skimmed milk without the cream,
and being in love with a wonderful dream.
Yes, loving your missionary means "Good-bye" at the plane,
and two years must pass before you see him again.
You reluctantly and painfully let him go,
while you are aching inside for wanting him so.
Then you wait for his word that everything is well,
and bide through a miserable letter less spell.
Then comes the mail, and you're giddy with joy,
and you pounce like a child with a shiny new toy.
You realize that he is so far away,
and your love for him grows greater each day.
You are proud of the job he is helping to do,
and you know he is doing it thinking of you.
Loving a missionary and its undefined fears,
and crying at night till there aren't anymore tears.
Then seeking comfort, you kneel down to pray,
and put your whole heart in the words that you say.
And you find that your feet are on the sand and not sod,
and your source of strength comes only from God.