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?
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.
I’ve made a list of things people hate to hear when their spouse is deployed. Perhaps you could add to this list, but these are two statements about which I’ve heard complaints: “I’m sorry.” “I know how you feel. I was a single mom.” Etc.
We do not want to miss this grace—this pure grace of God that gets us from the excitement-building, heart-racing, glee-producing “Welcome Home” moment . . . through the adjustments and transitions which characterize reintegration. Hebrews 12:15 reads, “See to it that no one misses the grace of God . . .”, and reintegration done well will validate that it is God’s grace, and grace alone, that smooths the return home. His greater grace takes you from "I can't do this anymore' to 'I can do all things through Him who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13). Likewise the pure grace of God in reintegration takes us from “I didn’t expect homecoming to be anything but sweet” to “God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work” (2 Corinthians 9:8). This grace is so powerful, so cleansing, so redemptive that I can only call it “reintegrace.” Indeed, God can take the strain of deployment and the uncertainty of transition and fashion it to be good because of His pure grace and mercy (Psalm 119:68).
Some PCS moves you anticipate—others come as a surprise. Some moves are a relief—others are a burden. But no matter if you have faced “good” moves or “bad” moves, there is one thing they all have in common—change. And some people deal well with change—others do not.
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.
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.
Is discouragement ruling your thoughts? Have you despaired at the trials of this deployment?
I just want to say it, “Deployments stink.” Whether they’re one month or fifteen months, they’re just awful. Ask my husband the Army fanatic – he loves wearing muted brown uniforms and shining boots and the smelling like fuel and weapons – even he will admit that living in a tent and looking at sand for any period of time is lousy. But he’d do it again tomorrow if you needed him to. I am not that dedicated. The “inner me” fights against the unknowns of war, the weariness of single-mothering, the feeling I’ve given away another year of my life. You can see where moping can take me. My inner side (yep, the flesh) is not real pretty—which is why God doesn’t want me dwelling there!
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.