notes from heaven

The day after John left for basic training, I had EMT class. I was alone in my car and all of it just hit me. I lost it and began to cry so hard. I was grieving and fearful. I was grieving the idea of him being gone for two months. He had been gone less than twenty-four hours and I missed him already. I was fearful of the change that might take place in him. I was fearful of where that might leave us. I was so worried that basic training would make him an institutionalized robot and there would be no place left for me in his life. That is, after all, the purpose of basic training: they exhaust soldiers and strip them down to something bare and formless, something able to shape and train for their purposes. The military would not be very effective without cooperation, uniformity, and a cohesive purpose. Without a sense of pride, brotherhood, and conformity, the Army couldn't do it's job as well as it can. Knowing that left me worried that he'd be lifeless, loveless, and content to lead a life without me. He was being bred to be a killing machine and in some ways that scared me. I would stand by him, committed and vulnerable, with no guarantee he'd do the same.

That twenty minutes of crying had left me looking like a train wreck so I beelined it to the bathroom to clean up before class. Out of all the bathrooms on campus and all of the stalls in that particular bathroom, I went into the one that had a little note on the floor. It seemed to be waiting just for me. On an unassuming purple sticky note, these words were inscribed: "Take delight in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalms 37:4" There in that bathroom stall at a community college, I had one of those moments. It was the kind of moment in which everything gets quiet and you hear the Lord speak directly to your heart. In that moment, I realized my fear was not out of faith. In that moment, I realized that my stress, anxiety, and fearfulness was because I wasn't trusting that God would give me the desires of my heart. He said to me, "I know what your heart desires and I've promised to give it you because you take delight in me." What a promise. I also understood that if John did change in a way that left no room for me, that God would STILL grant me the desires of my heart, even if it was in a way I hadn't imagined. I remembered that sometimes God takes away things we think we want for things that really fill our soul. That single little verse left me in position to say, "whatever the outcome, You will still keep your promises."

I write this now, almost exactly a year after that day, and clinging to that promise has been harder than ever. John and I are married now (desire granted) and instead of facing two months apart, we are facing twelve or more. The likeliness that he will change during this separation is greater than ever before. The degree of that change is heightened. And unfortunately, my fear has also increased. He is now acting out all of those things in which he was trained for. It is no longer training exercises, but the real deal. Conformity is not just a practice, but a necessity. Death, in one form or another, is not just an idea, but may become a reality in some capacity. My fear often manifests by becoming controlling, or at least trying. But the reality is, I can't control what happens to and around my husband while he is gone. I cannot control the choices he makes, the influences around him, or the events that take place in his life while we're apart. I have to let it go and believe that, once again, God will come through for us. I have to have faith that His promises are continual.

In one of the lowest points of deployment so far, I felt lonelier than ever. Not just physically, but in heart as well. I was mindlessly flipping through a book and my fingers stopped on a piece of paper tucked between the pages. It was a piece of paper my little sister was given at church while she was here visiting. It said "God is..." and she was prompted to finish the sentence. In her childlike handwriting and in a childlike faith, she wrote, "He is always there!" Just another reminder of one if HIs promises, another breath of fresh air, another prompting of faith, another note from heaven. Even in the most impossible of situations, even when the things I fear are actually valid, He stays unchanging. He is even gracious enough to give me reminders of this when I'm doubting and have lost focus.