So here’s a heads up for all thirty two of you.
I am going to write about deployment a lot. And it’s not because I want you to feel sorry for me, or tell me how brave I am. {And for the record, its easier to be brave … frankly, it’s self preservation.} Nope, I’m going to write about it because it’s my story. And because I serve the King, it’s His story, and I know I will hear redemption in the telling. I need to write this down. It is a matter of surviving intact.
Also, I am going to write about fear some more.
And that’s the worst part.
I still have fear. I still have fear. This battle is, and will continue to be, a daily struggle.
I watched him try on body armor and I am pleading with the Lord already…as if I can bargain with Him. My stomach is sinking somewhere down around my toes.
He’s gone for training again and I peer into the dark garage to make sure the door is closed. {Seriously, the man is obsessed with the garage door}. And still, a frisson of fear runs through me in the dark.
And yes, I will wage war on my fear and my doubt with the full armor of God. I will be all gratitude every moment for a Father who has proven again and again that He fights our battles for us. {In Scripture, and in my personal life again and again.}
I promise I won’t complain.
He bids me come, this weary mama, to set my burdens down, and I will, I swear it.
But right now, tonight, as I’m doing our choreographed routine in the kitchen by myself, checking garage doors, half-heartedly swiping counters while I pretend like I will do the dishes tonight, perching on the kitchen stool with a handful of chocolate chips and a cold glass of milk, peering into the dark and staring down the next nine months …
Just … no.
I do not like this. And that’s all I can think of at midnight on a Tuesday. (That just so happens to be the Tuesday 12 years ago today that launched us on this path … but that is for another day. Or never. There are some things I just can’t write about.)
So, so thankful for joy that comes in the mornings. Because midnights are rough.
Can’t say I didn’t warn you.
~M.
{This is it for a while, I promise.}.
Watching the helicopters together from his office window. Like father like son.
You need to write about it for the world and the others like you, as well, because you’re the only one with your particular gifts of faith and writing in your situation.
Thanks Martha. Making a valiant attempt to tell the story without being a sad complainer.
Hi there, Girl. I will be going to Allume and look forward to meeting you.
I spent 21 years in the Army and understand what you’re going through. It is always easier on the one leaving than the one left behind. The one left behind deals with the “hole” left behind and the “fear” of the unknown and the true nature of war (there really is an enemy). The one leaving is so involved in “mission accomplishment” they stuff down their own hurt into the recesses of their mind until the sun goes down, the Commander says, “Get some sleep, soldier.” Then when he shuffles into that Army tent, places his head on the pillow he silently cries in his loneliness for you and family. Trust me. God knows the tears on your pillow and the tears on his. He knows your hearts and is still Sovereign, Good and Perfect. Trusting HIm becomes our Armor – Leaning in on Him becomes our peace – and taking His Hand becomes our Refuge.
Come looking for me. I want to be the first person to give you a hug……
I love hugs. Thank you for the encouragement. It steels my heart to know that God is my God here AND in the mountains of Afghanistan. He cares for us in every way. I can’t wait to meet you…
Tell you story. Unabashedly. He will use it.
Thank you friend. Glad to see you over here. Did you stay in the writing group?
This is…spectacular. And Molly – sister follower – it isn’t brave if you’re not scared. Dive deep into the dependence, beautiful daughter of a King. Dive, for you have a permanent place to rest in safety.
Thank you. So true … about being brave and scared. I guess that means I’m really brave, because I get scared A LOT. Thankful for the God of Isaiah 40:11.
Molly, I love your honesty. Thank you for being willing to share the story that God is writing for you. Praying for you tonight, friend.
Thank you Kristi. Glad to be a part of this team … and not just because I get to write.