“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.
Bedford is a small town in rural Virginia. Nestled in the Blue Ridge foothills, it’s a tranquil spot to visit and ponder the enormous price this community made in service to our country on June 6, 1944—D-Day. Upon this beautiful town fell proportionately the heaviest share of American losses on that day. For out of the thirty young men from Bedford who had joined the National Guard and were called into service in 1942, twenty-two were killed in the invasion. For the “Bedford Boys” who landed on Normandy’s Omaha Beach in 1944, their bonds meant just that—bonds.
Time spent with chaplains is precious time. A few years ago we shared that precious time with a particular Navy chaplain who gave us a glimpse into his world of responsibility—which includes leading a chapel community, teaching Bible studies, completing administrative and training assignments (to name but a few of a myriad of tasks). . . .and being the notification officer and ministering chaplain to those in a wide circumference around his assigned duty station.
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:
On Memorial Day we honor many who died in service to our country . . . and thank the guards charged with keeping watch over the unknowns who represent the utmost bravery of our military service members.
It seemed innocent enough. He was driving to military training in another state---and stopped for a cup of coffee. While in line waiting for the barista to complete his order, a lady in line struck up a conversation with him. One thing led to another, and they sat down to finish their coffees.Turns out she was having some relationship problems with her ex . . . . . and he thought he could help. She gave him her phone number and they stayed in touch. He didn’t tell his wife about the meeting—it all seemed innocent enough. Again, one thing led to another . . . . and a year and a half later he and his wife are divorced, leaving three kids confused and hurting. He and the young woman at the coffee house are “dating”—an unlikely meeting now turned into a marriage disaster. Certainly there is a lot more to the story (there always is). But the details are only concentric circles around Satan’s target of this young man’s heart, and the ripple effect of the marital breakdown will continue for generations.
How Jesus healed me from PTSD is truly a powerful redemptive work of grace in my life, but the recovery did not happen overnight. On my second deployment to Iraq (from August 2006 to October 2007) I served with the 1-26 Infantry Battalion, which sustained more casualties than any other military unit since Vietnam. We lost 35 soldiers and over 130 were wounded. Many of the wounded ended up as amputees. I conducted 24 memorial ceremonies for our fallen soldiers, provided over 200 hours of grief counseling, and was also wounded due to an IED blast. Before returning home I began experiencing what behavioral health experts call “burn out” and “compassion fatigue.”
We have much in common on board the ship. It wasn’t that long ago we left our friends, boyfriends/girlfriends, spouses, children, and the dog---thousands of miles behind. So, what now, Chaplain? I’m so glad you asked . . . . As a Chaplain, one prevailing question I hear and frequently consider is this: “Where is God during deployment?” “Does God’s presence exist on a warship or in the sand of Afghanistan?”
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 . . .
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!”