Do you know what “waiting on the Lord” looks like to me? For our first family trip since my husband returned from his second deployment to Iraq, we decided to visit a friend in Colorado Springs. This was to be an important visit—a tender one—as this friend’s husband had been killed during that first deployment. But it is a long drive from central Texas to Colorado Springs, and attitude means everything.
As a member of the military I have realized that I need to be more careful than most with my words. I am vulnerable to bringing home damaging words and phrases, even tones of voice that seem normal at work, but at home are disastrous. Part of my readiness to deploy includes my need to be sure my family knows how much I love and value them. So it is best if I don’t say anything that I later need to correct in case I have to leave at short notice. I know the responsibility of leadership and I want my wife and children to live vibrant lives and not be crushed.
No military wife is ever ready for deployment. From what I hear from other wives none of us really feel that we are strong enough to go through a deployment. But at the end when we look back, we are shocked at how much we came through and how strong we really are.
What kind of woman am I, to choose such a demanding profession during my childbearing years? How will my choice to stay in the Army for a few more years affect my relationship with my daughter, and with my husband? Is this really the kind of work I was born to do long-term, or is this a detour on the road to my true vocation? I do not have bulletproof answers for these questions, and there are better women than I who have chosen either to be professional Soldiers or to be homemakers. What I do know definitively is that the Army has made me a better mother in some tangible ways:
Can you put yourself in the shoes of a blind man sitting by the wayside and begging? I cannot. However, I would imagine he must have felt he was in an “impossible” situation. As a blind man, he must have always been dependent on others to lead and assist him through life. How miserable would life be dependent on the mercy of others? “Others.” Many times “others" have disappointed me more than I care to share.
My husband’s title had just branded me for the duration of my time in this tiny town in Alaska. Perhaps I should have expected it, but I was frustrated. I wanted to be identified for who I was, not for what my husband did for a living. And then I realized something else: instead of seeking to declare my identity as an individual, I really should have been more concerned with staking my identity in Christ. What truly matters is who I am—who we are—in Christ.
Certainly as military members we are sensitive to the subject of death and dying. We understand sacrifice. We are prepared, or as Christians we should be. But the daily burden of unselfish living—putting others’ needs above our own in every circumstance—how exactly do we do that? That is called “dying to self,” and I think the author has a good point in raising this matter as a “fear.”
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!”
What is it that you hope for? Perhaps it is the safety of your spouse, or for an easy transition after deployment, or for a certain assignment. Or could it be that you have been walking in difficulty for so long that you are finding it difficult to hope at all? If you find your faith giving way to doubt, you are not alone.
I think I’m like a lot of military professionals in that I pride myself in being able to make a good plan. After all, I’ve had over 20 years of training and practice in making plan after plan and having them tested, refined, tested again, criticized, tested again, refined and the final test of all, executed. We in the military should be good at making plans, and not just one plan either. We have Plan A, Plan B and Plan C, each of which have branches (contingency plans) and sequels (follow on plans) – all designed to ensure that when we set out to achieve our mission, our execution is robust and effective. The success of our plans in achieving a mission is where the rubber hits the road in the military. It can accelerate or decelerate our careers. It can lead to honor or to shame. Plans are pretty important, and I haven’t restricted my planning only to what I do in the military.