Several years ago my husband and I closely watched two weddings—one on TV and the other through photos on Facebook. One, a royal wedding, costing millions of dollars and the other probably less than $200. Both couples deeply in love and truly committed to each other; both weddings in churches; both military couples with obligations to duty; both brides beautiful and both grooms handsome; both families excited and happy for the couples.
I suppose it’s not very “military” to describe a young Army couple as adorable, but they were. Their wedding date was a month away, and our pastor invited my husband and I to share tips for a successful military marriage. No pressure!
The story goes something like this: A military family has just arrived at their new duty station. They’ve settled into temporary quarters and have begun to look at housing options. The mother takes one of the little children with her to the commissary where the commander’s wife spots her and decides to check on how the family is doing. In the course of the conversation, she asks, “Have you found a home yet?” The child answers, “Oh, we have a home—we just haven’t found a house to put it in!”
We gather with military couples every Saturday night for dinner and Bible study. And at the end of our meeting time we take prayer requests—and then pray. But on this particular Saturday night, a certain prayer request brought some deep discussion. One of our young military men voiced discouragement over the atmosphere in his workplace on board ship. There was crudeness—to put it mildly. His desire was to be “light in a dark place”. But, in this current culture, what does that really mean for a Christian serving in today’s military?
Our flight was delayed—eventually cancelled. The rush to get everything done with work and home in order to get out-of-town had left us exhausted, so standing in a long line to be re-routed was a bit of an exercise in patience. It would be twenty-four hours before we could catch another international flight, so we were disappointed (to say the least). But one of the ladies in front of us was crying over it all. . . .
The family was hit with tragic news—so unbelievable and unexpected, and particularly difficult for his wife. As the spiritual leader, this husband knew there were steps he must take in order to get his family through the crisis. He cried, "Lord, help!"Those steps would have to be steps of faith—because there was no seeing the “whys”, “hows”, and “what ifs.” All of that was beyond understanding . . . with no idea what God was doing. But his Christian faith was strong . . . so he was willing to take the first and certain steps of faith in order to lead his family with gentleness and power, a remarkable combination.
We are sharing this outlined article “Is it Friday, Saturday or Sunday in your Life?” because during deployment we can experience all three of these emotions the disciples felt before Jesus' resurrection—reeling, grieving, and rejoicing!
Because of the rigors of deployment and the struggles of life, have you started asking yourself, “Who am I anymore?” Perhaps you can call that an “identity crisis”—when you begin to question or contemplate or doubt what makes you important or what makes you worthwhile. Many people tie their importance or identity to a number of different things: career progression, relationships, checkbook & savings balance, housing, car, what parents or spouse or sibling or supervisor or physical appearance or even the past says about them. What is the major problem with this list? It leaves out God and what He has to say about who you are.
I love the story of the two men on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24, as Jesus walks beside them and talks to them in the days after His resurrection but before His ascension. His presence was so real, but at first they did not know who He was. Jesus asks them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”
My Christmas celebration includes listening to the delivered words of Dr. S. M. Lockridge in his sermon, “That’s My King!" And a similar joy comes at Easter when I listen to his preaching “It’s Friday. . . but Sunday’s Comin'!”