I would be surprised if you have gotten through deployments without any tears. Tears when your spouse left; tears during the long months of separation; tears at special occasions when your loved one’s presence is especially missed . . . tears matter. Tears matter to God.
“If I’ve done something wrong, I’m sorry.” “. . . . and I’ll try not to do it again, but I can’t guarantee anything.” “I was wrong to _____, but it was really your fault.” Have you ever heard statements like these, or maybe even said them yourself? Clumsy apologies—if you can even call them apologies. And in marriage a bad apology, or lack of an apology, can begin to cost you the whole relationship.
When I was studying during deployment, I was moved by my reading, and my spirit was impressed to pray, " ... Father, we ask that You would keep us from sin and that we would not even desire its pleasures, that You would teach us to discipline our bodies, that You would teach us to walk in Your ways, and derive our pleasure completely from You. We ask that You would change our hearts that we would mourn over sin, and that we would be so close to You that we would be sensitive to the sin around us, and we would run from it. I especially pray this for myself, Father. Keep me pure.”
Because of all of the travel I am committed to, we spend days and weeks apart. That is not like a deployment, but certainly the premise—the truth—of this discipline of prayer as a couple holds whether you are facing the day together or many time zones apart. If you have more time—and if you can—either by email or text or phone—ask “how can I pray for you today?” Then connect your hearts, across the miles, in a simple prayer.
Being the wife of a Vietnam Vet, I served during those years on the home front. I served proudly, alongside the best, including many POW wives. Many of us volunteer now with today’s military spouses—helping with our own brand of training while observing, often up close and personal, a much more difficult war with its multiple deployments and unseen enemy. I have heard it said that Vietnam vets serve so well now because they were so ill-treated back then—and they don’t want our current forces to experience that. Perhaps that’s some of it, but I don’t think that’s all of it—by any means. I think they serve well because it’s the right thing to do.
The Combat Trauma Healing Manual: Christ-centered Solutions for Combat Trauma is filled with truth that helps and heals. My copy of this life-valuable book has underlines, highlights, stars and check marks in the margins, brackets, and notes—page after page. But one of my favorite parts is in the back—in the Appendix. The appendices are filled with important information—from how to know God personally to symptoms of PTSD to Scripture for use in spiritual warfare. Then there is Appendix D, with the interesting title of “Prayer Life of a PTSD Victor: King David.” There are three sections of prayers in this six page appendix—“Prayers of a Wounded Warrior,” “Promises to a Wounded Warrior,” and “Praises from a Wounded Warrior.” I will give a sample of each, but first we must ask the question “Who was King David?” and “Why do we believe he was a PTSD sufferer?”
When did you learn to pray? Was it in Sunday School at church? or at home around the dinner table? or saying your bed-time prayers with your parents? or in Vacation Bible School? or in a youth group? or with an athletic team? Do you remember a time when you memorized a prayer in your childhood? or memorized the Lord’s Prayer? And now do you find yourself crying out to God in prayer because of a crisis?
Have you ever wondered about the aircrews on those fateful flights of 9/11? One man's story gives a vivid description of what happened . . . please consider what the pilot, Steve Scheibner, has to say about life.
I have the great privilege of coaching the Upward cheerleading squad and am married to the fearless Upward referee commissioner. We have four lovely children, three of whom are participating in Upward activities this morning—but it’s likely that none of this would have happened if events had gone a bit differently on 9/11. It was on that fateful morning that I found myself among the hundreds of government workers being hastily evacuated from the U.S. Capitol Building in Washington, D. C. Word was circulating that YES, another plane was headed right for us. I was twenty-seven years old and had been married for only six weeks.
You have heard it called many things—an A-Ha moment, a breakthrough, “it all came together,” “something clicked,” “my eyes were opened,” “the light bulb came on”. . . . all references to that time when a key element sinks into one’s thought processes and truth makes sense—perhaps for the first time. I often recall, and speak about, two A-Ha moments in my life. One was on an August evening in Weatherford, Oklahoma, in 1980 when my husband was TDY,...