She was a strong woman. Perhaps that came from being the oldest of seven—no doubt a rowdy bunch. Perhaps it came from growing up during The Great Depression and having to work hard at home. Perhaps it came from having two pretty strict parents who expected a lot from their kids. She was strong even in the days when it might not have been the “norm” to be a strong woman.
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.
Certainly as military members we are sensitive to the subject of death and dying. We understand sacrifice. We are prepared, or as Christians we should be. But the daily burden of unselfish living—putting others’ needs above our own in every circumstance—how exactly do we do that? That is called “dying to self,” and I think the author has a good point in raising this matter as a “fear.”
During the debate over the pros and cons of marriage vs. living together I would often read that one party would say, “Why get married? It’s just a piece of paper. We already FEEL married.” In the military, that twisted logic just doesn’t hold up. A military marriage begins with one piece of paper—the marriage certificate. If you are not married “on paper," your relationship doesn’t count. Shortly after the official marital documentation follows the military ID card, another important piece of paper. Without that important document, there are no privileges that come with being a military dependent.
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 remember sitting on the front porch of our new quarters –you know, the “townhouses” crammed side-by-side around a parking lot. Kids everywhere. I remember speaking the words, “What in the world am I doing here?” and hoping no one heard me (yea, right—neighbors were in ear-shot of everything!).
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.
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!”
What is it that you hope for? Perhaps it is the safety of your spouse, or for an easy transition after deployment, or for a certain assignment. Or could it be that you have been walking in difficulty for so long that you are finding it difficult to hope at all? If you find your faith giving way to doubt, you are not alone.
I think I’m like a lot of military professionals in that I pride myself in being able to make a good plan. After all, I’ve had over 20 years of training and practice in making plan after plan and having them tested, refined, tested again, criticized, tested again, refined and the final test of all, executed. We in the military should be good at making plans, and not just one plan either. We have Plan A, Plan B and Plan C, each of which have branches (contingency plans) and sequels (follow on plans) – all designed to ensure that when we set out to achieve our mission, our execution is robust and effective. The success of our plans in achieving a mission is where the rubber hits the road in the military. It can accelerate or decelerate our careers. It can lead to honor or to shame. Plans are pretty important, and I haven’t restricted my planning only to what I do in the military.