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:
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.”
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!”
This Mother’s Day I join the ranks of millions of mothers who have gone before me, saying good-by to their sons and daughters and sending them off to war. Today my son is deploying to Afghanistan.In the past I have seen my brother off to the jungles of southeast Asia—and my husband off to the airfields of the same. Later, good-byes became common during our military career (love those Hellos!) . . . . but I had always heard that feelings are different when it is your child leaving. I think that’s true. I need perspective.
Have you seen those billboards across America which are black with white lettering—with “messages” from God? Have you seen, “We Need to Talk . . . . God”? Or “Loved the Wedding, Invite Me To The Marriage . . . . God”? Or “Need Directions? . . . . God”? The sponsor of these billboards is apparently an anonymous client, but whomever it is has put truth on display which we can all clearly understand. Or do we understand?
In the last pages of What Did You Expect?? Paul David Tripp summarizes his writing with this: “What has this book been about? It has been a detailed description of the daily work of love that must be done with commitment and joy when a flawed person is married to a flawed person and they are living in a fallen world." Did you catch that—“Daily work ..." So how do you do that under the challenge of deployment?
We were in a sparsely-populated area of Maine having dinner at a local cafe, and had the privilege of talking with our waitress about her experience with deployment. Her husband had been a Guardsman serving in a remote area of Afghanistan with limited internet access. One thing we heard from this wife was her commitment to writing and sending her husband letters. Hand-written letters.
So here’s the question: What would it look like if a Christian couple chose to face military life as an opportunity to exhibit and demonstrate Christ-likeness under all circumstances. . . even deployment? What would it look like if they faced the challenges of “constant schedule changes, the times of transition, the long periods of waiting, (for orders, housing, homecomings, etc.) the many uncertainties concerning deployments, the long periods of single-parenting, the long ‘silent’ periods during separations, the months spent ‘camping out’ at each new location, the adjustments of each family member at new homes, schools, and working environments” (Footsteps of the Faithful, p. 11) totally relying on God to meet their needs, strengthen and comfort them, in order to be able to finish strong? It would look like the McColl family, as shared in the book Footsteps of the Faithful, subtitled “Victorious Living and The Military Life.”