We Shall Never Forget

What kind of woman am I, to choose such a demanding profession during my childbearing years? How will my choice to stay in the Army for a few more years affect my relationship with my daughter, and with my husband? Is this really the kind of work I was born to do long-term, or is this a detour on the road to my true vocation? I do not have bulletproof answers for these questions, and there are better women than I who have chosen either to be professional Soldiers or to be homemakers. What I do know definitively is that the Army has made me a better mother in some tangible ways:

Can you put yourself in the shoes of a blind man sitting by the wayside and begging? I cannot. However, I would imagine he must have felt he was in an “impossible” situation. As a blind man, he must have always been dependent on others to lead and assist him through life. How miserable would life be dependent on the mercy of others? “Others.” Many times “others" have disappointed me more than I care to share.

My husband’s title had just branded me for the duration of my time in this tiny town in Alaska. Perhaps I should have expected it, but I was frustrated. I wanted to be identified for who I was, not for what my husband did for a living. And then I realized something else: instead of seeking to declare my identity as an individual, I really should have been more concerned with staking my identity in Christ. What truly matters is who I am—who we are—in Christ.