The Big D: 9 Deployment Fun Facts

12 August
Nine Deployment Fun Facts:

1. Every once in a while I hear the neighbor's garage door go down and even though I know in my head it's not mine, there is a rebellious little subconscious synapse that fires in my brain that cries "He's home!! He's home!!" Then the conscious side of my brain takes over and I have a quick moment of plunging sadness that takes a minute to recover from.

2. It is my husband's job to turn on the fan before we go to bed. That's why, nearly every night for the last 150 days or so, I have kicked the dog out of the way, climbed into bed, gotten comfortable, then had to get out of bed to turn the fan on. Almost without exception.

3. I have come to treasure that precious 2 hours of blissful peace and quiet between the hours of 9pm and 11pm (sometimes midnight) after the kids go to bed and before I go to bed. Sometimes I plan all day what I will do with those hours: read a book I haven't gotten to all day, watch a movie I've had DVRed for 3 weeks, take a bath with Pandora blasting from the computer in the other room. Whatever. Those hours are MINE and I'm not going to give them up easily when my husband gets home and we have to go to bed at 9:30 because he has to be up for PT so stinking early.

4. I probably spend about half on groceries what I spend when my husband is home because I have daughters who graze like I do and are happy to have a bowl of popcorn, some cheese slices, grapes, and maybe some carrot sticks for dinner. I will probably also gain 10 pounds in the first month after my husband comes home because I'll have to eat a real dinner every night...like the kind you need a fork to eat.

5. Sometimes you haven't any idea what you are capable of handling until you have no choice but to do it on your own and that's not always a bad thing. It can be very empowering if you can keep yourself from self-pity.

6. Sometimes things happen that you just can't handle on your own. So you learn that you can't really make real friends until you are forced to depend on someone because your husband is gone and you have no other choice. But then you get to return the favor and friendship blossoms.

7. Every bad thing that happens will pass.

8. I love my kids. I have always been thankful for them. But lets be honest--kids spend their entire lives learning how to push your buttons. There are days when they can drive me so crazy that I question why I wanted to have kids so bad in the first place. But not on a Sunday evening when we're watching a movie together and all three of them--and the dog--are crowded together on the couch with me and I can feel their warmth and hear their giggles when I would otherwise be totally alone. I appreciate the company of my kids in the absence of my husband more than ever before.

9. I fantasize about my husband's homecoming and *ahem* his first night home (or the first 10 minutes when we sneak up to the walk-in closet and lock the door) like every wife whose husband has been gone for a long time. But sometimes I just fantasize about being hugged.          

The Big D: Countdown to the end

12 September
Every day that passes gets me closer to the end of this.  Until then, I just continue to carry on and stay active, putting things on the calendar and taking care of things that need taking care of but I think this last little bit is going to feel like the longest of the whole deployment.

I have a handful of friends whose husbands just returned in the last week or so and I'm not going to lie to you. It is so hard to see them with their husbands. I had to watch a friend and her family sit in front of me at church last Sunday and their little boy (who looks SOOO much like his daddy, who I had never seen before) was crawling all over him, clinging to him and whispering in his ear, and I knew how happy they were because I watched her cry, 10 days before his return, overwhelmed by the absence they had endured and the excitement of him finally coming home. But there I was, still alone and fighting the urge to be insanely envious of her. In those moments, it feels like I still have SO LONG to wait!

There are so many of those hard moments when it feels like this separation will never end, and maybe it even feels like the cost of this life is just too great.  I've heard from several women who are struggling and I'm the kind of person who says we have to be master of our emotions and turn to something that encourages us.

I happen to be reading "Bonhoeffer," right now, a book about a German pastor who stood up to Hitler in the years leading up to WWII and was arrested and executed for his part in an assassination attempt. He spent 18 months in prison before being executed by the Nazis but during those long months he was permitted to write letters and he had a fiancé named Marie who received many of them. Something he said to her in one of his letters has encouraged me and I go to it in my mind every time I want to feel sorry for myself or I wonder if this is all worth it:

"No, you needn't have a moment's worry--I'm not worried either. You do, of course, know from the little we've said to each other that danger exists not only out there [on the battlefronts] but here at home as well, sometimes rather less so, sometimes rather more. What man of today has the right to shun it and shrink from it? And what woman of today should not share it, however gladly the man would relieve her of that burden? And how indescribably happy it makes the man if the woman he loves stands by him with courage, patience , and above all--prayer." Dietrich Bonhoeffer

I want to encourage you who are struggling. The separation will end, the hard moments will pass, and when you are reunited, the painful memories will fade. I don't say this as an expert because I am still living through it. I say it because I believe it will happen. Be courageous, have patience, and pray.  If all else fails...

    

The Big D: The end is near and the pressure is on

02 October
With my mind on reintegration (we have such an unbelievably short time left--and the date is still holding!!) I've had some strange thoughts swimming around in my head and I've resolved some of them, which has removed a huge amount of pressure I stupidly placed on my shoulders, so I thought I would share some of my stupidity and how I am getting past it:

I am an over-achiever. Let's just get that out there. You might have been able to figure that out through reading my other posts, or if you know me personally. If you ask me to do something, I will not only do it, but I will do better than that if at all possible. I also like order. I like when things make sense and that's a big reason why I am even writing all of this. For so many young wives, enlisting in the army and sending a husband off to BCT makes them feel like their life is a suitcase that's been dropped down the stairs and all the insides have been dumped out and scattered all over the place. I like to walk up behind you, pick up your things, fold them neatly, tuck them back in, then hand you back your suitcase with a smile, having made sense of it all for you.

So now you will understand, maybe, the range of emotion that has been running through my brain at having such a close homecoming date to hold on to. I have gone from "This doesn't feel real yet," to "I've got to drop EVERYTHING and make the house perfect," to "Forget perfect, I need to finish this project before he gets home because he will totally not 'get' why I'm spending so much time on it and I won't be able to work on it much after he's here," to "Crap. What else about the way I've been doing things is going to have to change?"

Let me clarify...it's not "change" that scares me. We've been married a long time and have been through lots of things that have changed us as individuals and as a couple. Change is just a part of the marital package. What's had me all wound up is the fact that I have ordered my life in a very intentional way that makes sense to me. I have priorities--for me, they're spiritual things (church is where we are on a Sunday morning; yes, Bible study is an hour away twice a week but I wouldn't miss it for ANYTHING, if there is a social thing or a service thing going on with church, I do my best to be there). Doing life this way is how I feel I am being obedient to God (maybe if you're not a person of faith you have nothing to relate this to, but maybe you do, so I'm just going to put it all out there).

A couple of days ago, I had this raw, panicky thought: how do I continue to live in what is, for me, a God-honoring way, when I now have to share my daily life and these priorities that I have had the ultimate say in, with another person--a person who hasn't been on the same journey as I have and who isn't where I'm at spiritually? My husband and I make a really good partnership but my walk with God is something about me he appreciates from a distance, y'know? Anyway, this thought really threw me for a loop and I shared my concerns with my bible study friends (who are much smarter and wiser than me, lol) and one of them said to me, "Can I say something? You're breaking my heart a little bit by thinking you have to have everything perfectly ordered when your husband comes home. It doesn't have to be, ok? Just take it a day at a time and quit trying to be everything to everyone." I burst into tears when she said that. It was such a relief to hear someone say those words and I didn't even realize that's what I had been doing in trying to anticipate what my husband's reactions would be to the way I'd ordered our lives (let's face it--it's been a year and a half since we sold our house in Kansas City and had anything resembling a normal life as a family unit so there's bound to be some surprises for him), and trying to fit all the mixed up pieces together beforehand.

So, I'm not doing that anymore and it is SUCH load off! I do anticipate that some of my habits will have to change but I will give them up and not require my husband to conform to my routines because it just shouldn't be that way...in my very old-fashioned opinion, anyway. My husband has never been one to aggressively be "The Man of the House" and he's never played that card with me to get his way, but I think deep down, that's what men really are when they are at their best, God-given potential as leaders, lovers, providers, and protectors. I want him to slip back into that role without being hindered by my whining about what I'm giving up. And even though it feels like what I am giving up is good (and I've been fortunate to have the alone time to develop some of the life-long disciplines I didn't have before), I am resting in the knowledge that by submitting to the way my husband wants to order our lives--it's ok, because God gave me my husband and in being a good, and happy, and undemanding, and uncomplicated wife, I'm still honoring God with my life. It will look a little bit different after the big day but I'm not really losing any ground with Him. He knows.

Wowza. That ended up being really long. I'm sorry if this makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, lol. But I still hold onto the off-chance that there is someone out there who can use this to make sense of their own unique situation and so I'll hit "post" instead of "delete."           

The Big D: It's over

18 October
No words. Just.....          

The Woman Who Didn't Belong: A Parable

There once was a very large house on a very large hill that was lovingly maintained and owned by a man of obvious privilege.  The house was surrounded by acres of carefully manicured grass, fruit trees that produced in abundance, and a beautiful marble fountain crafted by a talented artist who loved and revered the master of the house as if he was family, and in fact, he was.

Surrounding this house and its property was an ornate fence of wrought iron.  It stood taller than a man and beheld enough beauty of its own to prompt passersby to admire it.  Between its twisting bars, one could plainly see all of the comings and goings of the fortunate souls who were permitted entry through the gate and allowed to partake of the master's generosity.


During the course of many years, hundreds of those who belonged inside entered through the gate but there were millions who could only stand outside and wonder what it was like within.  Over time, some on the outside grew jealous.  They spat in the dirt and shook their fist at the gate as if anyone inside would be moved by such a display. Most on the outside however, simply walked away and carried on with their little lives in their little houses inside their own humble little gates.

One day the master of the very large house received a very important visitor.  The visitor, a skilled physician, was long awaited and highly anticipated.  However, the good doctor was outspoken in his positions, stirring up the anger of the most prominent of the privileged guests.  They harrumphed and turn on their heels and stomped outside upon his arrival.  Unwilling to depart completely from the safety and comfort of the gate, they sat in the manicured grass outside and pouted. 

This created such a foofaraw that many on the outside returned to the gate with fascination to see what would happen next.  They wrapped their fingers around the iron work and craned their necks to see.  They were slightly disappointed to see the unflappable physician wave good-bye to the ones who didn't want his company and return quietly to the party that was being thrown in his honor.

Later, no one would recall quite how it happened: that a poor woman from the outside came to enter into the house.  It was surmised that she slunk in through a secret passageway for there she stood in the opulent foyer where she clearly did not belong.  And then, in front of an audience of shocked onlookers, she stooped down and knelt in front of the doctor.  She proceeded to lower herself until she was prostrate on the floor at his feet.  Hushed whispers made their way round the room about the condition of the floor and the condition of her soul, that she would humiliate herself so.

"Good doctor," she whispered in a trembling voice, stretching out her fingers and then curling them into her fists, as if she wanted to touch his feet but thought better of it.  "Your skill is renown throughout the land.  I am in desperate need of your services.  You see, my daughter is very ill.  In fact, she is on death's door.  Please. Can you help her?"  When no response was made, she whimpered, letting her tears fall on the expensive tiles beneath her. 

Finally, those who were closest to the doctor spoke, urging him to send her away.  Her begging and whining, they said, was bothering them and spoiling the mood of the party that was, if he needed to be reminded, in his honor.   

"I beg of you, Doctor," she said, ignoring them.  "You alone can save her."

"Woman," the doctor said.  "How can I help you when I came here to give my services to the people who belong in this house?  It is not right for you to take the food from the children's table and give it to the dogs."

Though everyone thought it, no one expected him to say it out loud.  His friends became angry that he would allow himself to be put in this uncomfortable position.  They knew him well enough to know he preferred to err on the side of compassion.  Furthermore, they did not mind doing his dirty work; keeping the riffraff who constantly flocked to him, soiling the hem of his garments in their undignified posturing, at bay.  It was nothing personal.  He wasn't here for them.

What they did not understand was that his response was as much for them as it was for her, for they would learn volumes from watching what she did next.

She did not become angry or indignant, as she surely would have been justified in doing after being compared to a dog and the act of saving her daughter as being the food fit for dogs.  Nor did she shrink away from him and retreat from the house with what modicum of dignity she might have retained after this pathetic show.  

She raised her head slightly and said, "What you say is true, Sir.  I do not deserve your kindness.  But even the dogs under the table are allowed to eat the scraps from the children's plates."

It was painful to watch.  Again, the doctor's friends urged him to send her away, reassuring him that he was not wrong to do so.  He silenced them with a mere look and bent down to the woman, took her hand in his, and helped her to her feet.  "Good answer," he said.  "I will be glad to help you."

And with that, the two departed as if they were old chums reconciled, leaving the mouths of his friends agape with incredulity.



This parable retelling of Mark 7:24-29 and Matthew 15:21-28 attempts to make sense of the one time in scripture when Jesus comes off as a bit of an insensitive jerk.  Yes, I said it.  Mark and Matthew recorded these events as they happened whether they understood them or not.  To me, this story that  describes for us the first non-Jewish convert in Jesus' ministry, is a stark reminder to every single Christian alive today that He owes us nothing.  We are not entitled to His grace, or even a split-second of His attention, and we have done nothing worthwhile to deserve it.  The woman in this story knew she was undeserving and yet she came to him because she was suffering.  How many of us today approach Jesus because we are hurting and desperate for hope?  Thank God for the blessing of affliction, which prompts us to move when we might otherwise stay at home to wallow in our sadness.  That He stoops down to us in our darkest places and invites us to His table should bring us to fall on our faces before Him.  Never doubt His goodness.

"You do not desire a sacrifice, or I would offer one.

You do not want a burnt offering.

The sacrifice you desire is a broken spirit.

You will not reject a broken and repentant heart, O God."

Psalm 51:16-17