Silent Walls in Dubai

Dear God, the silence in this cramped room is louder than the construction noise outside. I left my wife and two little ones in Bohol three years ago, promising them a better life, but tonight, I feel like I am just losing them one video call at a time. I look at the screen and see my daughter growing taller, and I realize I am not there to see her walk, to hug her when she cries, or even to hear her first prayers. Is this really the plan? To trade my presence for pesos while my heart withers away in this desert heat?

Lord, I am working until my back breaks, sending every dirham back home, but lately, I wonder if the 'balikbayan' dream is worth this much emptiness. My friends here try to cheer me up with cheap beer and loud music, but it doesn't touch the hole in my chest. Why do You allow a father to be so far from his children? Do You even see me here in this lonely room, or have You forgotten the man who promised to serve You faithfully?

I am exhausted, God. My soul is like a dry rice field waiting for rain that never comes. I don't know how to keep going when every day feels like a repetition of the last, and the distance between me and my family grows wider even with the technology we have. Please, tell me why this sacrifice is necessary, because right now, I am just a man running on empty. A weary father, Elias.