This is a crazy time in my life—probably in yours, too, especially if you are dealing with deployment. There is more going on than I can wrap my mind around. At times like this I sometimes don’t know what to do. And then a voice, Elisabeth Elliot’s voice, comes into my mind saying: “Do the next thing.” How many times did I hear her read this poem on her radio program, “Gateway to Joy”? Many, I recall. I believe she used to say that it was passed on to her from her mother, one of those anonymous poems that speaks truth to our souls and keeps us going. It’s simple wisdom—for deployment days and stressful days and days of restlessness.

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 wasn’t the “norm” to be a strong woman.

"This isn’t just a job for me. This is my calling, and I need you to share my calling." As he described his commitment to the Army, my husband’s voice was filled with emotion. It grabbed my attention. Rob and I were attending an intensive marriage retreat before the first of three deployments to Iraq. God opened my eyes that day to an essential element of both Rob’s service in the military and our marriage.

It’s unusual for a wife to speak at her husband’s military retirement ceremony. More “normal” is for him to give her a gift—maybe a bouquet of roses—and then speak about her sacrifices as a military wife. Then she usually receives a commendation—pictures are made with her—and much applause is given to her, as it should. So when I heard about this poem, recently included in the printed retirement program of a dear friend,

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!”

In the military it's always wedding season, and with each present I wrap I enclose our favorite wedding verse. It is Colossians 3:12-15. Perhaps this is a bit of an unusual choice for scriptural instruction on marriage, but my experience has been that it gets right to the very core of the challenges of married life.

“I know it’s a red light!” I growled at my wife. My teenaged daughter groaned in the back seat, “Dad!” That moment Sunday evening was huge. My wife was anxious because of my poor driving. The beast of pride had welled up inside of me. It could easily have led to isolation—icy, short interaction for the rest of the evening, and sleeping back-to-back. There is a war going on for our souls

Growing up the daughter of a submariner, I was always fascinated by the raw beauty and power of the sea. Its proximity was partly to blame; until I went off to college, I had never lived in a land-locked place. The other reality that inspired my awe, however, was that the ocean was my father’s livelihood. Even as he knew how to navigate and operate within it, he lived constantly at its mercy.

On the wall of my father-in-law’s office hangs a small piece of paper framed as an important document, yellowed with age. On this paper are these words: "You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world . . ."