O Holy Night

I'm laying in bed listening to my little brother yell from the other room, "Sissy! Can I get up?" He tried "Mommy" but got no response, so now he moved on to me. My sister is in the bed next to me still sleeping. There is a cat sleeping at her feet. I've been up for about 30 minutes because my phone went off saying I had a Facebook message. It took forever to load and while it was I was saying, "Please be my baby. Please be him." It was. I hadn't heard from him in 6 days and it was such a relief to know that he made it safely to his new location. We chatted on Facebook for just a few minutes about his new base and his new amenities there. Soda was on the list of amenities. And just like that he was not online anymore.

My alarm is about to go off. Today my family is going to church with my husband's family. Being in the home I lived in when we met without him being here messes with my mind. I'm different. Things are different. I walk around with the feeling of "Crap, what am I forgetting?" Then I realize I didn't forget anything. The bills are paid. I did what I needed to do. It's him. He's not here and so part of me feels missing. It's been hard for me to get into the Christmas spirit this year. I hung lights at my apartment and bought a festive wreath. I've listened to my fair share of Christmas music. Cookies have been baked, ornaments are hung, and presents are under the tree. Yet it still doesn't feel like Christmastime to me.

The upside of all of this is that without all the excitement and wonder Christmas brings, I am able to focus more on the simple things in life. A teenage virgin gave birth to a baby that would one day die to save our souls. That is no simple thing, but his love is. I'm not interested in religion or arguing over whether to say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. All that is just noise drowning out what we need to hear. He appeared and the soul felt its worth. I hope your soul feels its worth today. My love is far away and I miss him so. The inner most parts of my soul know something is missing. Yet, it knows its worth. Laws and religion and political noise fill us with rules and regulations and arguments about things that don't matter. But his law is love and his gospel is peace. I wish you glowing hearts, a thrill of hope, and for your weary soul to rejoice this season.

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our friend!

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His Gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His Name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy Name!

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

rockstar

Lately, I've had an insatiable desire to be my husband's rockstar. My husband LOVES Christmas (much more than I do) and when I thought he'd be home around Christmastime, I had nothing but dreams of how to make it the best Christmas ever. I've thought of every little detail from each twinkling light to how I would wake him up Christmas morning, whether it was the 25th or not. Now that he won't be home until much later, I'm once again planning care packages and welcome home festivities. I just want to be extravagant with my love. I don't want money to be an object or the 7,000 mile distance to be an obstacle. I want my actions to show how much I love him. I want him to say, "My wife is such a rockstar!"

Marriage is a marathon (or at least it should be) and not a sprint. This means that most of the time it's long, arduous, and boring. The way you show love is with the everyday things. Trophies should be given to wives who thank their loved ones for doing the dishes, instead of telling him how wrong they did it. Awards should be given to husbands who truly think their wives are beautiful even at 5 am. Those who choose to be kind, even when the other is being unreasonable, deserve medals. These are the things I'm working towards.

My love can be extravagant, and it should be. I hate that I can't make holidays special for him right now. I hate that I can't cook him his favorite meal. I hate that I can't surprise him in a sexy outfit when he gets home. I hate that I can't do these big, obvious things for him. I want him to feel wanted, attractive, loved, special, needed, respected, honored. I dream about these big gestures and imagine John being blown away by them. I fantasize about him telling everyone, "Do you know what my wife did?! She's so amazing! My wife is a rockstar!"

Deployment strips away just about every opportunity for grand, romantic gestures. There are no surprise weekend getaways. There is no spontaneous love-making. Gifts must fit in a package. Mollie Gross, author of Confessions of a Military Wife, says deployment is a time of just "riding the vows". There is more surviving than there is thriving. But you know what? Anyone can buy gifts, wear lingerie, cook a meal and decorate a Christmas tree. Not everyone is capable of being faithful, even when desperate for some attention. Not everyone is able to withstand coming in fourth or fifth on the priority list (after staying alive, doing the mission at hand, keeping his brothers alive, etc) for an extended period of time. It is, after all, a long, arduous, boring marathon (within a marathon). This job is not for the weak. He may not being saying it right now, but I will. Dammit, I AM a rockstar!

And to those of you who are feeling weary, civilian and military alike, you too are a rockstar. The odds are against us. We are a rare breed. You have a 50/50 chance of making it in this crazy world called marriage, but you have all the tools needed to succeed. Keep being faithful. Keep being supportive. Keep serving, loving, and honoring. YOU ARE A ROCKSTAR!