Military Life – Eyes to See

Broken Ties: Unspoken Sacrifices of the Military Family

One of the hardest parts of military life is living far away from your natural family. Obviously, we live in different geographical places, but the separation is far greater than points on a map. As time wears on, the military family learns a new languages full of acronyms and looming thoughts of war. The family continues their patterns and banter, bubbling over with the hullabaloo of the hometown or dysfunctional family gathering. Our communities also look vastly different. The family may live in a neighborhood, taking walks through the area and saying hello to neighbors they’ve known for decades. Meanwhile, our base housing communities appear similar on the outside, but it’s not uncommon to hear your neighbor with PTSD screaming next door. The heroes we share backyards with are also our sports coaches, co-workers and the span of age between us all is minimal. There’s no neighborhood Grandma passing out cookies. Over time, the ties that bind us to our far-away family, by and large, get cut.

The fray that remains still is love. We have our past in common. We have some continued knowledge of each other’s lives: who had a baby, who is getting married. Nevertheless, the cards stop arriving at Christmas. The invites to those life events altogether cease. No one remembers your children’s birthdays with cake, candles or a backyard barbecue. We become spectators in a far-away land to the celebrations and heartbreaks of our families. We wonder if anyone even remembers we are still part of the family, too.

We take some of the blame upon ourselves; maybe we should call or write more? Maybe I should’ve mailed change of address postcards after our 5th PCS? Maybe I should’ve stopped by for coffee the last time I was in town?

As hard as it is, our own flesh and blood cannot realize the pressure and restraints the military lifestyle causes. We never seem to call or visit frequently enough to satisfy our far-away relatives. While I am glad they don’t understand the rhythm of this lifestyle, the fact is our family time is already limited with our service member. Expecting video calls every weekend is difficult. We often times handle the ups and downs of life alone whilst supporting other military families walking the struggle with the support of their far-away family, too.

We do indeed take care of our own. We show up to bring the new Mom meals. We keep the kids when a couple’s marriage is constrained and date night seems like a last-ditch effort to hold it all together. We sit across from young couples in the hospital who lost their baby, in the place a parent would normally be. We visit psychiatric wards where our neighbor tried to take her life, because she was bone-tired managing life with a husband half a world away at all times. We give the eulogies at funerals and arrange the meal trains when someone dies for our nation. This is just barely scratching the surface… We have more on our plates than most know or ever realize.

We have not forgotten you, faraway family. Yet, we must forge ahead as we silently grieve our losses, praying and hoping for friends who are like family at each place we report for duty. After all, with you far away, who will be our emergency contact? Who will take the kids if we need to go to the ER? Who will sit around our table to share our Thanksgiving and Easter meals and traditions alongside us? It’s not that we don’t care or don’t have time for you. It’s that we must build connections on playgrounds and in line at the commissary. We aren’t replacing you, yet we also hope we could find fill-ins for our children’s soccer games and piano recitals.

The truth is, we are so lonely in this life, especially those of us who have chosen military life for the long-haul. We don’t want to hear how nice it is to retire between ages 40-45 from our relatives, because what we’ve had to forfeit for that goal is great. We have lost friends and comrades at war. We lose our community every 3 years when we relocate. And it seems we have lost well as you- our extended family- the Aunts and Uncles and cousins. We have to soothe our children’s broken hearts when they see their cousins make best friends with other children. We have to figure out how to fit FaceTime into each special occasion and celebration. And the sad reality is, it never seems to be enough to re-thread the connection we once shared.

While we are filled with great pride to serve our Nation- which includes our family back at home- we also live in constant tension with loss. The cost of freedom isn’t free and sometimes we forget the line upon line of expense. You are part of that sacrifice that we are making.

Have you heard this saying?

“If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it was meant to be, If it doesn’t, it never was.”

So to every Mom, Dad, Sister, Brother, Aunt, Uncle, Cousin we live far from… we believe love is enough- no matter the distance, space or lack of connectivity. We realize you let us go- hoping we’d return. But we cannot tell what our futures hold as we serve our Nation. So please trust, while we are away, that this life we live, with all the struggles and misunderstandings, is our form of love toward you.

Counting Up the Cost: Military and Kids

My husband encountered God in Iraq on his third combat deployment in 2007. Shortly after experiencing Christ, he felt the call into the military missions field to serve as a Chaplain. There were many hoops to jump through (a.k.a. undergrad, Seminary and ministry experience) until it came full circle and he commissioned as a Navy Chaplain in December 2014.

While we pursued the call of Christ, we had to count up the cost of discipleship, the call to serve God’s people and our Nation. The costs were not only spiritual, but financial, identity forming and career changing, redefining our family’s trajectory, hopes and dreams, all while learning that every yes was simultaneously a no to something else.

When we counted the cost to pursue a lifestyle in service to military members and their families, we forgot an important line item: children. We had none when the journey began, and now we have two dear ones. No amount of counting, budgeting and planning would’ve prepared me as a Mom for the cost of this lifestyle to my children.

The deprecating “you knew what you were getting yourself into” comment doesn’t translate down to our children. They are the unseen sacrifice, offering their little life for the good of our Nation. They didn’t sign up for Daddy missing birthdays, Christmas and their first steps. They won’t ever get to say “my Dad never missed one of my games.” They don’t receive military training classes to show them the ropes, learn the acronyms or find camaraderie at the FRG. Few, if any, turn to them shake their hands and thank them for their service.

Many parents I’ve rubbed elbows with (myself included) struggle most with how this military life affects our children. Absolutely nothing prepares you for the heartache of watching the military child’s cost. The inconsolable hours of tears when they say goodbye before deployment… then having to physically peel them off their departing parent when the goodbye comes. The good days peppered with a random meltdown and proclamation of missing Daddy…. The loss of sleep, acting out and misbehavior that accompanies a child unable to process and handle the grief of being without a parent, because they’ve been volun-told they simply cannot have them for a season.

It’s gut wrenching. It’s hard to handle the reality and lies that whisper we are “messing our kids up.” We can’t fix or help or find a solution when Daddy’s *gone* but they just WANT him. Feeling helpless and unable to rescue them in their pain is antithetical to parenthood.

In the midst of these sufferings, I’ve learned the cost of discipleship. Following Christ authentically often comes with loss, and this is especially poignant for the military family. My children lose their home, friends and routine every 30-36 months. They lose their actual father for seasons. Parallel to that, I likewise lose my spouse and parenting partner for large chunks of time. I lose the dreams of giving my children a happy childhood, free from hardship and pain. I lose my dreams of them growing up near family, having sleepovers with cousins and pool parties with lifelong neighbors. I lose hope that all these things can work together for their good and God’s glory in the long run. While being obedient to God’s call is never easy, some days my husband and I would rather abandon it all to shelter and protect our children.

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it?” (Luke 14:26-28)

While we do not literally hate one another, our military ministry has come with permitting the abandonment of family, one another as spouses and even our children at times. Following Jesus has led us through four deployments and five-ish years of accumulated time separated as a family. We’ve moved to four different states since having children. And we keep doing it for one reason- hope and love. The cross we bear is not easily explained and understood, unless you’re living it. Even with the added expense this takes on our children, we are determined to complete the call to build a tower, a monument of love, a life in service to the image of God in the people who serve our nation.

My husband may earn ribbons and awards for his military service and I might get a certificate or two of appreciation. The kiddos might get some applause at the retirement ceremony someday. But what they’re really receiving in the challenges of this lifestyle is the rich soil of discipleship. A soul that is dug deep, overturned, broken up, cultivated and ready to receive seed. Seed that someday will prayerfully take root, and grow deep and bear good fruit- 10, 20, 100 fold.

I do not know the outcome of how our lifestyle will truly shape our children but I believe that their role is equally infused with the Divine as they grow and mature within this lifestyle. I believe they will see the fullness of God in every human being we cross paths with across the globe because of their exposure to different places, people and culture. Following Jesus as a disciple is never rainbows and butterflies and my children have tasted the truth of hardship and trial in their early lives. My children also have tasted and seen the joy that lies just beyond the pain: the hugs and happy tears of homecoming. The pride of standing still with hand thrust over heart while evening Colors play. The instant connection and quick friendship they can build with other military children who “get it.” These are good gifts.

So military families, take heart. The struggle bus will keep driving through the deployment woes and PCS goodbyes, the FaceTimes with grandparents and the empty spots at your dinner table each holiday. Jesus is at the wheel and he’ll take our families where He knows we need to go so we can love the broken and become disciples who make disciples. Living this military life like you’re on mission from God- every place and face ordained by Him to cross your path and your children’s path– changes the journey. We’re not prisoners on the bus, we are the brothers and sisters on the best road trip. The cost will be worthy of the call to be Jesus’ ride or die. The treasure is storing up in heaven.

April is the month of the military child. Revel in those children and their sacrifices, strength and service. Squeeze them a little tighter. Honor them as the littlest disciples. Talk about their bravery and celebrate their strength. While they didn’t choose this life, they should be celebrated for their role in our Nation’s fabric.

Blog Military Life

Living Sent

An old church tradition during Epiphany is a practice called Chalking the Doors. With chalk, mark your lintel and doorposts, saying a blessing over the home- a tangible reminder that Christ dwells with us wherever we are, and that our home is a place of radical welcome, an outpost of His kingdom.

One of the valuable messages at the heart of the gospel centers on community. Being committed to people and our places means that we move toward people, instead of away from them. It’s hard to see that reality sometimes as someone who only plants her feet in one place for 2-3 years.

When we have to pack up and move to the next duty station, my heart focuses on the ending of relationships in my current place. When I experience pain, my instinct is to draw away, not toward.

These words from Shepherd of Hermas, second-century writings from the early church resonate:
“You know that you who are God’s servants are living in a foreign country, for your own city-state is far away from this City-state. Knowing, then, which one is to be your own City-state, why do you acquire fields, costly furnishings, buildings, and frail dwellings here? Instead of fields, buy for yourselves people in distress in accordance with your means. It is far, far better to buy this kind of field, property, or building, which is quite different and which you can find again in your own City when you come home. This ‘extravagance’ is beautiful and holy; it brings no grief and no fear; it brings nothing but joy.”

In just a few short weeks, we will pack all our belongings. They will be put into trucks, loaded onto boats and floated half a world away.

Our hearts will surely feel the grief as we say our goodbyes- a joy and evidence of love that grew during this season of life in Maine. A reminder that we lived sent, embracing all God’s people that walked through our front door.

I also look ahead with hope, at the other end of the rainbow awaiting- a new life to explore, a new opportunity to give our hearts away to new Ohana. When we get keys to our new Hawaiian home, the first thing I will do is roll out the welcome mat. This is the way of the military family- we learn to embrace that we live sent, on mission and ready to use our homes as an outpost for Love.

Blog Military Life Spirituality

You Can Make Yourself

I recently read a line in a book that I can’t get out of my head. In the book, Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist she says, “one never changes until the pain level gets high enough”

This is an impactful thought for our military community. Just last week news broke about another one like us- an Army wife, Tristen Watson– who reached her pain level. Her heart-breaking story ended in tragedy, as she chose to end her and her unborn child’s life by suiciding, after also murdering her toddler.

Do you know why thousands of us feel this loss in our bones? Because we know what burdens she was carrying. There’s many invisible weights military spouses carry on their back. That may sound strange, since we grow up and stop believing in invisible things. But I feel these things acutely; many of you wear them, too.

My weight is loneliness.
My weight is doubt.
My weight is hopelessness.
My weight is fear.
My weight is sadness.
My weight is feeling overwhelmed, incapable, soul-weary, empty, tired…
The list goes on.

We are juggling big things- independent parenting, less than ideal circumstances, moving and uprooting, experiencing constant grief cycles from losing friends and communities, being far from family, unrest in our marriages and managing the emotional health of our spouses after their war experiences.

This all equates to one simple word: trauma. Our lifestyle is nothing short of traumatic. If we look at the reality of our past, the circumstances of our present and the unknowns of the future in this lifestyle, it is far too easy to become hopeless. Add in many of us, who have pasts full of trauma, whether it be sexual, emotional, physical or a life-altering event, and it’s the recipe for a perfect storm.

Trauma rears it’s head in ugly ways. It’s the voice that always shames. It’s the accusations– I’ll never be better, healed, whole, happy. It’s the driving force behind feeling constantly on edge, waiting for the shoe to drop. Trauma rewires our brains to think unreasonably, obsessively and to make our bed in a place riddled with constant depression and anxiety.

The solution for handling trauma is multifaceted. We know resiliency plays a role, although there’s much nuance with how we gain resiliency. We know this for a fact: resiliency is not entirely built in. We have to let go of stigmas that are imprisoning real souls. It’s not enough to pull yourself up by the bootstraps. You can’t just be “Army strong.” We don’t need to suck it up, buttercup. We don’t need another “well you knew what you were getting yourself into.” We need to start having real conversations about the reality of mental wellness in our armed forces and spouses.

The most believable mantra in our culture is that “people never change.” We believe that we can never change, either, so we stay in cycles and battles and addictions and pain until we feel like the only way to end it is to stop breathing.

I’m here to tell you today that you can change. You can change your mind. You can adjust the sails for the course of wind. You can follow your heart. You can change the inner dialogue that always leaves you feeling defeated. You can fall apart, and reassemble yourself into a more beautiful mosaic. So as you might be falling apart, broken into pieces, handling burdens too heavy to carry, and at the very end of your rope, it’s not the end of your story.

This needs to be a battle cry from within the heart of our armed services. No matter how dark and daunting, we need the affirmation and permission from one another to change. To remake and recreate our reality, until we feel peace. We need the support and acknowledgement, the resources and the hearts willing to help us move toward change, both inward and outward.

We all have high pain levels, which is already the impetus for change. So, brave one, do it- spread your wings and make your life yours. Uncle Sam may control some things in your life, but he doesn’t own you. You are free to be who you are meant to be. And I am here to cheer you on as you discover, heal, put down burdens and make yourself. No one else can do it for you, and that’s the beauty in it all. You can be authentically you- and that’s who the world needs you to be, too.

RESOURCES:

For free, personal Counseling: Military One Source 1-800-342-9647
If you’re having thoughts of ending your life, call the National Suicide Hotline- 1-800-273-8255

Blog Military Life

Spiritual Growth on Deployment

Military couples face challenges in their marriage in ways most people never have to explore. This is especially true as we endure long separations from one another because of the service member’s obligation to our Nation. My husband and I have been on both ends of the spectrum- having a failing marriage during deployment and also working toward a thriving marriage despite the physical separations.

Ways we can enrich our relationship long-distance vary. As people of faith, incorporating belief and hope into our marriage building has been enriching. While there’s many articles on practical and useful ways to handle deployment, little exists on how to stay on the same page spiritually.
Research shows sharing morality both in a marriage and family solidifies relationships. While you tick off packing lists, arrange finances, discuss how to parent the children in your spouse’s absence, and consider emergency plans, be sure to include a discussion in how to share your faith during deployment.

Here’s a few suggestions we’ve tried over the years:
Tip #1- Read matching devotionals while you’re apart. My Aunt gifted us our first set of matching devotionals when my husband left on his first deployment to Afghanistan in 2003. We’ve continued the tradition over the years on subsequent separations. This practical tool gives us commonality in our faith, keep us on the same growth track spiritually and give us the ace in the back pocket to discuss when communication gets tough.
Devotional pages often include the calendar date, so I’ve also found it to be a great place to jot down important dates in my spouse’s copy to remind him of events, birthdays or leave him little romantic notes.

During deployment in my copy, I like to jot down important milestones, such as the day we said goodbye, the half-way point, and the homecoming, once it finally arrives! It’s a nice reminder of God’s steadfast presence in this time.

(A word of encouragement to those who’s spouses have differing faiths: Even before my now-Chaplain hubby had faith, he was willing to read a devotional with me! Just ask- you never know unless you do.)
Recommendation: Jesus Calling by Sarah Young.

Tip #2- Choose a deployment scripture.A much wiser, seasoned Marine Corps wife shared her story of how she and her husband purposed their hearts to serve God foremost in service to our Nation. This meant viewing deployment time as a mission from God, and by using this lens she was able to see the faithfulness of the Lord present with her through each deployment separation. Together before their goodbyes, they chose a scripture to pull them through the tough days and to serve as encouragement.

Choosing a deployment scripture can become a beautiful reminder of God’s faithfulness throughout a difficult season. When facing difficult circumstances, we often need to cling to the Word, and deployment is no exception.

Choosing an anchor verse helps to remind us that God will sustain even in the hard, miry throes of deployment. There’s days where it feels impossible and moments you’d rather quit, but we can do hard and holy things. We can honor God and do his will even during deployment. Muttering his promises and faithful words in the midst of our struggles can revive and recharge our hearts.

Our most recent deployment Scripture was 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Tip #3- Find Spiritual Community We are not created to live life alone. Alone becomes strikingly apparent when your spouse leaves for an extended time period. It’s wise to safeguard against becoming isolated, which we know leads to feelings of depression or anxiety.

As those left behind on deployment, it’s not too hard to find a place to worship on Sundays. But it’s even more important (and equally difficult) to build relationships with people who share your faith and values and who can offer biblical encouragement when days get tough. BEFORE your spouse deploys, try to build relationships with those people who will become like family, the ones you can call when Murphy’s Law strikes and you get a flat tire. You’ll need faithful people who you can text for prayer and encouragement. People who can speak God’s truth in love to you when you’re having a hard time juggling solo parenting.

It’s equally important to encourage the deploying spouse to find likeminded community while away. Most commands have a Chaplain on deployment who can help find spiritual resources. Don’t want to talk to the Chaplain? There’s usually lay leaders in your crew or squadron, too. Find those people in your ranks, and go to weekly Bible study or Chapel together.

Tip #4- Never Underestimate the Power of Prayer Miles apart, an easy way to unify your hearts is to pray together. If you’re able and connected, make it a habit to have daily prayer on the phone or messenger together. If you’re less connected, then pick a 31 day prayer plan and commit to pray over each other even when you can’t communicate.

Bottom line: Share as much as you can in your spiritual journey together. Do you scripture journal? Share the plan with your spouse- they may want to jump on board. Do you take sermon notes? Email them to your spouse every Sunday afternoon. Does your place of worship stream the message? Then pass along the link so they’re hearing the same sermon. Do you love worship music? Then send your Spotify playlist to your Main Squeeze, too. Building intimacy long distance isn’t simple, and it’ll take some extra time and effort, but it will make post-deployment adjusting a little easier. As people of faith, our desire for growth should be mutual and should include spiritual development even while apart.

Blog Military Life

Reunion

Reunion: a word that brings back many happy memories for some. The waft of summer barbecues. The clinking of a game of horseshoes. The smell of salty ocean air and personalized family T-shirts.

For others, reunion reminds them of losing those pounds gained since high school; or of the final push toward accomplishment so there is something to show for the passing years.

The Hollywood vision of military reunion is probably the most public portrayal of this lifestyle. Sailors swooping their sweethearts off their feet in the middle of a street. Soldiers surprising daughters and sons at school functions. Wives running toward husbands and children waving flags. Roses. Cute signs. Cheers. Regalia. Bands. Military homecoming looks so happy. And it is.

But it’s more than that- it’s frightening. Those moments we embrace for the first time in forever are happy. But what do we do with the remaining moments? The drive from the ship to our home. The days of leave where we spend 24/7 together after months of separation. The routine. The normalcy that gets redefined. Reintegration is hard and scary. And we should stop mascarading and pretending it’s anything but.

Reintegration looks like a wife laying in bed trembling before she goes to sleep that first night with her husband. It’s strange and unfamiliar. She’ll have to share the pillows again. It’s hard to welcome his touch after shutting off desire for months. It’s hard to quiet the clamorous thoughts: “will it feel the same? Will he notice I lost 10 lbs? Will he like the new perfume I’m wearing?” And as his fingers glide over her skin she cries- a combination of fear, happiness and relief. She’s not alone anymore. But it feels so lonely at the same time. Inside her mind she thinks, “He doesn’t know me anymore.”

Homecoming looks like a child too timid to approach his mommy because she’s returned hardened by war. Her happiness and delight in those first moments of reunion wear off into blank stares, vigilance along the roadside, distracted thoughts and wondering if she’ll ever be able enjoy this freedom she defended again. If she can be happy again. If she can have a good life with that son she happily stood in freedom’s wing for. And the child in the backseat thinks and wonders if his mommy even loves him anymore. She still seems so far away.

Homecoming is the give and take of routine being refigured. It’s sons and daughters being relieved of what were their extra responsibilities. It’s wives learning to reallow their husband to open her car door. Who will take the kids to their games? Who will do dishes after dinner? How will I carve time into life to give attention to my spouse again? Will I have any time alone again?

The Good News is always that- good news. There is good news for these tough and scary times. We can never be prepared for reunion with our loved one without the help of Christ. No self help book or readiness program can do what He did on the cross. He covers. He gives grace. He forgives.

And that’s what we must do. Military families must cover. Military families must give grace. But mostly, we must do the hardest work of all- forgive.

Covering looks like saying it’s okay your spouse doesn’t remember what day the recycling gets picked up. Covering is saying Mommy or Daddy missed that birthday, but we can celebrate together now. Covering looks like allowing our warriors to grieve, cry and mourn the loss they may have experienced, even if that’s just the loss of camaraderie with someone other than this family.

Grace looks like saying sorry when you argue about who should bathe the children. Grace is seeing your independent spouse still maintain his or her routine even though you are home- and commending them for their strength instead of resenting them for it. Grace looks like turning off the tv and telling the kids it’s been so long since you’ve played with them that you need them to help you remember.

Forgiveness is the biggest priority through it all. We need forgiveness for the time apart, for the misunderstandings, for the lack of communicating the big and little ways our hearts have changed, how our routines have changed, how our lifestyles have changed, howour thoughts and perspectives have changed. Forgiveness for making new friends both for the person on deployment and for us back at home, and expecting our spouses and families to just join in that relationship we’ve built alone for months. We may even extend forgiveness to our Nation for allowing our families to carry the burden of freedom, for allowing our children’s hearts feel the realities of a warrior’s life: real trauma, suffering, sadness and grief they barely understand, let alone process.

There’s so much more of homecoming we never talk about, never make space for, never give words to… but we need to start opening up these lines of communication so we can love each other through it. So we can normalize what feels so isolating. So we can say after reunion “this is hard.” Or “our marriage is not as happy as I thought this would be.” Or “my kids still don’t trust Daddy even though he’s been home for 6 months.” It’s time we share the truth: homecoming is hard. But the other side of that coin is that we shouldn’t be ashamed because it’s hard, either. Life feels hard when we don’t feel heard.

So it’s time we speak up, give words, and share stories of how hard these moments are, so we can receive grace and mercy from each other. So we can let others talk and share and cry and say “I didn’t think this would be so hard!”

Let’s stop perpetuating lies that say “these are supposed to be the happiest days” when you’re reunited and let’s remember the blood, sweat and tears that goes into overcoming hardship, even after our service members come home to safety.

I think military families can do redeployment well if we’re doing it loved. It’s time we create that space for each other. It’s time the Church sees this transition-homecoming- as fragile and sacred so they can support, listen and offer us love, free babysitting and maybe even some meals while we relearn one another, while we grow in grace together and while we do the gritty work of becoming One again- one day at a time.

Blog Military Life

Love Is All You Need

We love sayings that are idealistic, in fact I have Pinterest boards and journals full of encouraging quotes, yet many times I have a hard time incorporating them into everyday reality. “Love is All You Need,” a popular Beatles song, has stuck in the hearts and minds of people for decades. I have a soft spot for the Beatles, my favorite band in high school. I even have a mug I drink coffee out of most mornings with these same words: “Love Is All You Need.” I love this saying because as a Christ follower, I believe love is the driving force for good in this world and the cornerstone of my faith.

We talk about love a lot as a military community– we say that love is how a man or woman is willing to give their life in service, and for some in sacrifice, for our Nation. Love is what got us married into the military in the first place, and love led us to become participants in this great adventure called military life.

But the reality of love isn’t rainbows and roses (can I hear the married people say amen?). As Followers of Christ, love in the kingdom isn’t about what you get. It’s about what you can give.

Yet, some of the messages we perpetuate in our community is that we deserve something more. Message boards and conversations abound where milspouses discuss how annoying the military lifestyle can be, how irritating our spouse’s job is or how civilians have no clue what we go through. While there’s a time and place for productive conversations to improve our lifestyle, most of what we buzz about is not building one another (or our communities) up.

1 Corinthians 13 says what love looks like the best way (from The Message):

Love never gives up.

Love cares more for others than for self.

Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.

Love doesn’t strut.

Doesn’t have a swelled head.

Doesn’t force itself on others.

Isn’t always “me first.”

Doesn’t fly off the handle.

Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,

Doesn’t revel when others grovel,

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth.

Puts up with anything.

Trusts God always,

Always looks for the best,

Never looks back,

But keeps going to the end.

I would say milspouses love fiercely, but let us do so by speaking grace and truth to one another. Let’s be a group of people known not for excessive complaints and comparisons, but for being LOVE to each other, and to truly spur one another to love and good works.

Here’s some ways I have struggled, and have had to open my eyes to the reality of love:

I’m so tired of every leave block being spent visiting family and friends, always driving to that part of the country and then everyone expects me to run around to see them. Instead of complaining about the inconvenience and cost, let’s change the script to read love. Instead, open eyes of love see that a visit home is enjoyed with all the quirks of family, because this might be the last time you play a game of cards with Grams. I’m happy to drive home and then make moments to go here, there and everywhere to remind people who matter to me that I love them. Surely, love can sacrifice a tank of gas. We’re people willing to give our lives in service to our country. Let us be people willing to sacrifice small things, too. Even for our family members and friends back home. Because, love cares more for others than for self.

I’m so tired of hearing my civilian friend complain that her husband is on a 2 day business trip. My natural response would be to say big deal! I mean, I’ve spent 5 years apart from my man as he keeps *you* safe. I need to capture those reactions and filter them through love. Love doesn’t have a swelled head nor does it strut it’s stuff. Instead I can see my friend struggling with her spouse’s absence as an opportunity for me to encourage her, pray with her and reassure her that her doubts and fears are normal and natural. Instead of one-upping her with my stories of holding down the fort solo, I can bring by her dinner to relieve some of the stress in her day. Instead of playing comparisons, I can care for her in her time of need.

I’m so tired of my husband’s long work hours. Don’t they know he has a family back home? Instead of giving my husband a piece of my mind when he gets home, love says I shouldn’t fly off the handle. I cover his dinner plate and put it in the microwave. I tuck the kids into bed. Instead of reeling on my phone, posting on social media about my irritation with long work hours and excessively texting him to complain that I’m unhappy he’s not home, I use the time to pray for his work environment, leadership and comrades. I look for the best and take the extra moments of solitude as a gift, reading a book or calling a friend.

I can’t help but see that at the heart of all these thoughts, the concern is for *myself.* When I lean into the Kingdom, opening my eyes to see God’s love at hand right now, my perspective shifts. I cannot respond to the heart of God with a heart for myself. My response must be love- love for Him and for others. Love is all we need to keep trucking through this lifestyle. After all, love never gives up.

Where does your script need to change to read “love?” Love turns our problems into opportunities to let the Kingdom come, right now, on earth as it is in heaven.

Love isn’t easy. It’s always involves sacrifice. I sacrifice my impatience to be patient when Uncle Sam delays homecoming, instead of jumping on the spouse’s page to vent. I sacrifice my deployment horror stories to hear someone else’s story, even if it doesn’t hold a candle to my trials or tribulations. I don’t have to force myself, my opinions and experiences on others. My only charge and obligation is to love. I get to throw away my scoresheets and build loving, safe places.

I want to build and participate in a community that doesn’t look back, but only looks forward. I want to live in base communities that care more for others than encouraging us to stay stuck in our own loathing. I want my milspouse friends to speak love and truth to me in all the trials that will come my way in this lifestyle. God is trustworthy in the ebbs, flows and unknowns. Love is, and can be, all we need to live this crazy, hard and refining lifestyle.

Blog Military Life

Living In-TENSION-ally

No one can relate to feeling like a stranger in a foreign land more than the military family. While some of us quite literally have moved to foreign soil, we inevitably move to new duty stations every couple of years. We learn to be “Semper Gumby,” ever flexible and adjusting to different communities and cultures, different regions and climates. While it’s pretty incredible the government foots the bill to relocate our families for each adventure, PCS season comes with considerable fear and trepidation.

Boxes galore, paper in every form, little numbered stickers of many hues (because we never removed the last set), more pizza than you want to see ever again in your life. It’s here. Again. And for many, it leaves us bone-tired just thinking about it. Welcome to PCS season!

If you’re in the throes of this season, the stress and tension PCS creates are real. It takes a noticeable toll on families as we pack up life as we know it, watch our children say goodbye to their best friends, close out our obligations and have Hail and Farewells. We leave one place emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted, arriving at the new place with little rejuvenation. And when we set feet in the new land, we’re stuck between life as we knew it and the unknowns of what’s to come.
The tension of being out of place, in between homes or in a new place leads to varied reactions. First, we can separate from people, feeling the effort to get to know people is worthless since you’ll be ripped away again eventually. Or maybe you’re a “blender-“ you adapt to the people you’re in proximity with for a season, even if they’re totally different from your last crowd.

Problems arise from both dichotomy’s as we transition from one place to the next. Separating from people leads to isolation, which can lead to depression, anxiety and many other issues. Not to mention the practical things, like who’s gonna be your emergency contact at the CDC if you don’t get to know anyone? More costly, we lose our ability to influence our community with our gifts and talents when we isolate. We likewise forfeit this same influence when we blend in, being fearful to step out in faith and be the hands and feet of Christ.

As people of faith, though, we should be quite comfortable feeling like foreigners in a temporary land. We are sojourners together at the foot of the cross.When Jesus walked the earth, he didn’t separate from people and he didn’t blend in. Instead, He lived life in the tension. He loved people in their mess and mire. He engaged with doubters and sinners with humility and servanthood.
The same applies to us in our change of station- we have to get comfortable with the tension if we ever want to find the joy in military service. To live intentionally for us really means living in tension. Jesus, in all his righteousness, still inserted himself into the things of the world- the hurt, the pain, the suffering. And if you take a quick glimpse around our bases and units, boats and squadrons, housing community and clinics, the hurt, pain and suffering is ever present.
You have a mission, dear family, during this PCS and it’s simple: get in the tension of your community and be the hands of Christ.

Who’s sitting around your table, discussing the realities of faith and praying for you? Find those people at your new duty station. Many avenues exist to find them, such as base Chaplain programs, Chapel, PWOC, IF:Table, local military-friendly churches and the list goes on. Gather together with your people often, then go love your community. Be in-tension-al! Let’s change the atmosphere of our bases and be a people known by love, shining bright. Let’s roll up our sleeves and get into the hurt and pain and suffering in our community, while being ever sustained by faith, hope and love of a different Kingdom.

While we may not be pumped up to pack up and leave our friends and routines, homes and schools, we can look expectantly at the new places ahead, where the tension will be. It will be difficult. It might not always feel worthy. But we must find our people to encourage us to remember: this is a temporary home, like all the rest, and someday we’ll have a permanent residence, with no PCS orders to come. And I want the people I spend a few years with here and there to be in eternity with me. Can you imagine that block party? I’m down. Are you?

God knew how hard this calling would be for His people. So when the church was birthed in Acts, He emphasized the importance of community. He gave us his Spirit to dwell within us to enable us to have unity. To sustain in-tension living, we must also be devoted to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and prayers (Acts 2:42). The early church was devoted to one another. They were aware of the happenings in their community because they lived in the tension. They met needs for one another and then they met needs outside in their local community. Sacrificial love happens in authentic community.

Blog Military Life

Hurry Up & Wait

As military families we are well acquainted with many colloquialisms. A favorite of mine is “hurry up and wait.” We understand waiting because it’s woven throughout the necessity of serving our Nation. Waiting goes along with the training, field operations or work up missions for the service member. And it’s no secret that families definitely learn to wait when deployment orders are executed. Four years of my life has been spent waiting on deployment to end!

We are familiar with waiting in lines with a number in hand for our turn to get an ID card, for our commissary deli meat order or for our prescriptions at the pharmacy. Even more nail-biting, we wait to see if we got seats on a Space-A flight! We wait regularly for gate traffic, medical referrals from our PCM, base housing availability or that EAS date.

We are people accustomed to waiting- masters, indeed! And yet most people would say one of the hardest things in this lifestyle is the WAITING. We hate to wait. It’d be so much easier to just *know* when homecoming will be, what’s our next address, if our spouse will achieve promotion, what school our children will transfer to. We like the sense of control knowledge gives to us.

We go to lengths to eliminate waiting from our everyday lives. We grab Chick-Fil-A from one event to the next because we don’t have time to wait. We snap pictures of life and upload them to social media- hello, INSTAgram. We like days without delays and moments without pause. But waiting will always exist no matter how many remedies we try to create to eliminate it- a reality most felt in the confines of this military life.

God has a lot to say about waiting, too. In fact, the scriptures are full of the theme of waiting. Moses waited40 years in the desert before helping Israel become free from Pharaoh. Joseph spent seven years in prison innocently before being exonerated from a crime he didn’t commit. Jesus even waited 30 years before entering public ministry.

When I’m in the thick of waiting for things, I always question the Lord. The first question is WHY do you make us wait? And most of the Christian answers I’ve heard are because God wants us to grow in trust or faith or endurance.

But what if waiting is less about the end result and more about the process?

Waiting is the ground where we commune with Christ. Jesus teaches about waiting in a well-known story called the Prodigal Son. (Unfamiliar? Google Luke 15:11-32) In the account, the Father prepared for his wandering squandering son’s return home after he cashed in his inheritance and traveled to far lands to have some fun. When the son eventually came home, broken both financially and emotionally, the Father threw a big party and served a fattened calf to the guests! But as the Father waited for his son’s return, He fed that calf, cared for it and helped it to grow until the feasting day arrived. Additionally, he kept his son’s robe and family ring when he left, resisting the urge to take it to Once Upon a Child for store credit. While He waited, the Father lived his life in patient expectation for the hope of throwing his arms around his son to welcome him home, placing his robe and signet ring back upon his beloved.

Maybe we wait because the Father in the story- who parallels God- waits. God wants us to go through seasons of waiting because he wants us to become more like Him. He is known as Patient and Long-suffering.

The season of wait you’re experiencing now, whether it’s your spouse’s return from deployment or work ups, for orders, for household goods, for restoration in your marriage… Whatever you are waiting for- God is waiting with you. He waits with you because He is in the waiting.

Waiting doesn’t have to be approached as fruitless or pointless or annoying- rather, it’s a stopgap in our hustle to encounter God. He is the gift during our times of waiting. Just as He fed the calf and grew it, He can feed our souls and grow us to greater maturity in our faith until the waiting ends and a new story unfolds. Waiting is a place of preparation and growth, where our character becomes less like me and more like Him.

Let’s not be swift in wishing waiting away, instead let’s press in and unwrap the love hidden in the process. We can wait like the Father in the story, because who doesn’t love a good story about a homecoming? Homecoming sings hope to our hearts after the long wait of deployment or training or PCS or rocky marriage seasons. Waiting beckons something deep- an emergent celebration of joy, a glimpse of the everlasting Kingdom. And at the end of the 3 missed anniversaries year after year, the Christmases apart, we can finally say “it was worth the wait!” Because He was with me when I was waiting and waiting made me more like Him.