Perhaps before deployment you spent sweet time with each other going over all the good memories of wonderful times together. Then you gave a “charge”—to be careful, remember that they are loved, know that you’re grateful for them, and promise to stay in communication whenever possible. And of course you made plans for your reunion and spoke of how wonderful it’ll be to be back together again.
I am always on the lookout for good marital “helps”—especially concerning military marriages. The challenges of military life are so many and the stresses so high we need to be on high alert concerning the state of our own marriage and those of our friends. I especially appreciate articles which give advice to help friends help friends. You know—you want to help others with troubled marriages but just don’t know how . . . and are especially fearful of “making things worse.” It’s rare to find such help.
As Sonja held down the fort while her husband Jason was deployed, she quickly saw the need to go on the offensive against spirits of fear, worry, resentment, anger and bitterness. Instead of waiting for discouragement to invade and occupy her home, she countered it at every turn by wielding the Sword of Truth: God’s Word.
Parenting well during a deployment begins with our faith—which begins with belief in the truth of Scripture. Being “plugged in” to our source of faith, the Lord Jesus, allows us to be full of “living water” (the Holy Spirit) which will then flow through us to our children. To put it another way—as Jesus tells us in John 15:5—we are to “abide in the vine.” Our family just experienced a 15 month separation. As I look back, I can point to seven truths to share about parenting during deployment:
I have a great dentist. Through the years he has taken care of my teeth by preventing problems and treating problems. Lately he has even put up with some of my whining about aging, expensive crowns, and gum erosion . . . Just the other day, when I was in for a “routine cleaning” (thank goodness there wasn’t anything else wrong!), I told him that the next time I come in I will need a thorough exam because I might be heading to a remote location for a while—and I don’t want any surprises while I am away. His response was, “Oh, so you want The Submariner Treatment!”
A friend of mine recently asked me how I keep my mind from wandering to the what-ifs during deployments. Her husband is a helicopter pilot beginning his first deployment. She had heard about a fatal overseas helicopter crash on the news and, though knowing her husband wasn’t involved, she wanted some advice on how to deal with the “It could have been him” or the “What would I do without him” thoughts that infiltrate a military wife’s mind when her husband is deployed.
"Scars & Stripes" is not just a book about the particulars of the fateful mission, a rescue that didn’t happen, untold torture sessions and the personalities of the torturers, the POW community which created a communication system at great risk, the politics of the war, or how his family coped during his absence . . . it’s the story of a man who saw God work even when he had lost all hope.
It all begins with creation . . . which begins with the Creator. If you find yourself feeling empty today—with doubts, frustrations, concerns bearing down on you, consider reading these verses of adoration, beauty, and correction to set your heart on the one who loves you enough to give this beautiful world—and to send His Son, Jesus Christ, into it . . . just for you.
“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.
How is communication going with your spouse during this deployment? During the Vietnam War, the only voice communication my husband and I had was MARS radio. Better than nothing, but only three minutes once a month and punctuated with the required “over” before we could exchange pleasantries—all overheard by a Ham radio operator somewhere on the west coast. So letters were our main form of communication—