"This isn’t just a job for me. This is my calling, and I need you to share my calling." As he described his commitment to the Army, my husband’s voice was filled with emotion. It grabbed my attention. Rob and I were attending an intensive marriage retreat before the first of three deployments to Iraq. God opened my eyes that day to an essential element of both Rob’s service in the military and our marriage.
I opened my email one morning and read a message from a sweet military wife whose husband was in Afghanistan. She had been reading postings on Excellent or Praiseworthy, and was grateful for the encouragement. Then she closed her comment with, “I’m so thankful for America, a free country that allows me to know what true freedom is in Christ!”
It’s a song, a famous song, but did you know that it really is a prayer? A prayer that we’ve all heard sung at athletic events, on the steps of the U.S. Capitol by our congressmen on September 11th, at the reopening of the stock market the following Monday, at church services during war and peacetime, at Republican and Democratic national conventions, on radio and television programs, in movies, and at patriotic rallies throughout our country and on foreign shores. Its words burn in our hearts because the lyrics ring true. . . .and the musical score combined with those words bring goose-bumps each time we hear or sing this beautiful prayer.
In the military it's always wedding season, and with each present I wrap I enclose our favorite wedding verse. It is Colossians 3:12-15. Perhaps this is a bit of an unusual choice for scriptural instruction on marriage, but my experience has been that it gets right to the very core of the challenges of married life.
The bride was stunningly beautiful. The groom was handsome and beaming. It was a starlit fall night—the perfect evening for a wedding in east Texas. And once the vows were repeated, the new couple was introduced to everyone in the joy-filled church, and the reception dinner was completed . . . . the bride’s father got up to give his toast before the cake was cut. Here's what the father of the bride said ...
Some PCS moves you anticipate—others come as a surprise. Some moves are a relief—others are a burden. But no matter if you have faced “good” moves or “bad” moves, there is one thing they all have in common—change. And some people deal well with change—others do not.
“I’m not there! What can I do about it?” If you’ve ever heard those words from a deployed service member, you know the frustration they offer up to the one at home having to deal with the troubling situation. If the situation regards the rearing of children, then the frustration can reach epic proportions. None of us wants that, right? So here are some thoughts to help—they’re so simple we call them the "ABCs" of long-distance parenting.
Our son continued the legacy of military service which is so evident in our family. Perhaps your family is the same—you are passing on something that you saw, lived and valued enough to invest in for your future generations. Or perhaps your family is first to serve your country in military duty. What we can say for sure is that others are watching. Perhaps your children, like our son, are seeing the fruit of honorable service and sacrifice. “The eyes of the world are upon you.” We are proud of you. On this D-Day, we say "thank you for your service to our dear country, and to our Lord."
One of the joys of traveling and meeting with military families is hearing the stories of how they are raising their children during these tumultuous times. Many of our families are being very intentional—making sure that their Christian faith is lived out as a priority no matter the demands of military duty. It is very encouraging, and humbling, to see this current generation of service members and their spouses being so diligent to teach the ways of the Lord to their children . . .
For me, the story of “Taps” is a local story because I live close to where it was composed. I could easily drive to Berkeley Plantation in Virginia, where there is a monument marking the “birthplace” of Taps. Tour guides will tell you that the haunting 24-note bugle call is actually a revision of a French call to signal to the troops the end of the day and “lights out.” The story goes like this: