Butterflies, Ants, and War

Today I took the kids for a walk in the desert park. Much like that fateful day 12 years ago, I felt like getting away from the media and enjoying something as changeless as nature. It was sunny and humid (for a change) so I was huffing and puffing my way up a hill, when I heard my youngest exclaim, "Oooh! A worker ant carrying a little caterpillar! I bet it's taking it to it's queen. Oh, I just LOVE watching ants work!" This was shortly after I heard "Look a black swallowtail butterfly!" and we all had to stop and watch. Each delighted sighting of nature brightened my day in so many ways.

I often think of my life as having happened in two segments: before 9/11 and after 9/11. The before seemed more lighthearted and happy, the after seems more weary and suspicious. It fills me with incredible sadness that my kids have only known the latter their whole lives.

The week leading up to the anniversary of September 11 always fills me with somber reflection. My husband was stationed at Ft. Carson in Colorado Springs in September of 2001. I was a part time college student studying French and Nutrition. We had been married almost 3 years, and life was pretty good. The only uncertainty in our lives was that my husband was about to discharge from the military in November, and we weren't sure where life would take us next. We loved CO, and hoped to stay in the area, enjoying a lifetime of hiking, snow, amazing views and awesome breweries.

September 11th was a class day for me. I stopped at a Safeway to grab some zinc, because I was feeling a cold coming on. As I approached the checkout, I noticed everyone staring open-mouthed at the TV. I asked the person next to me what had happened. Without looking away from the TV, they said a plane had hit one of the twin towers. I looked up at the TV and watched in horror as a second plane hit the second tower. My thoughts were a jumble, but I'll never forget them: "Shit. We're at war. There's going to be a stop-loss. This had to be Osama bin Laden. What if this is a coordinated effort across the US? Is Fort Carson safe? Those poor, poor people. Does my husband know about this yet? Is my husband going to war?" I walked out of the store with an incredibly heavy heart. I looked over at Pikes Peak, and I was reminded instantly that God was still in control. He was still on His throne, and He would bring us through what would undoubtedly be a difficult future. At the same time, I knew that life as I knew it was about to change forever. And it did. My husband didn't end up leaving the military. He felt like he'd be leaving his country in a bind if he left as we were on the brink of war. So, we packed up, left our beloved Colorado, and headed to a new duty station (in a new branch of the military.) Three children ended up joining our lives, so that we eventually became a family of five.

The world has become a rougher place than I remember of those pre 9/11 days. War, violence, terror and poverty consume the news. Americans are weary. And yet, some things remain the same. Little worker ants take food to their queen, and my children delight in watching it happen. God cares for even that little worker ant, and provides for its every need. Though my children are so aware of the violence, pain, war, and sadness in the world, God also takes care of their little minds in this post 9/11 world, reminding them of the truth of His loving care, and giving them great delight in the ordinary.

That fine line...

I've often heard it said that there's a fine line between concern and worry. I think when it comes to the deployment of a loved one, that line is perforated.

It's normal when you're apart from your spouse for extended periods to think about them and what they're doing when you wake up in the morning, and when you're head hits the pillow at night...and about a million other times during the day. It's normal when you know they're in a dangerous part of the world, to scan the headlines first thing in the morning to see if anything happened in that part of the world.

As we prepare for my husband's deployment, it's prudent for me to consider what I should do if he doesn't come back. We have two kids, and I need to plan for our future. We've been married nearly 13 years; I met my hubby when I was 16. We were engaged when I was 17, and married when I was barely 18. We've grown up together. We've influenced one another incredibly. When I think about the possibility of him not coming home, all of these thoughts go through my head. My chest starts to hurt, and I feel like I can't breathe. Without even noticing, I've crossed over into the realm of worry from the perfectly sane place of concern.

If I cannot keep myself in the land of normal concern, what am I going to do with two kiddos who already worry incessantly that their father or I will die? These two already spend a great deal of their time in fearful worry.

Sigh. I suppose if life were too easy, I'd be bored with it.

...sometimes boring sounds nice though!

Freedom Is Not Free By Kelly Strong I watched the flag pass by one day. It fluttered in the breeze. A young Marine saluted it, and then he stood at ease. I looked at him in uniform So young, so tall, so proud, He'd stand out in any crowd. I thought how many men like him Had fallen through the years. How many died on foreign soil? How many mothers' tears? How many pilots' planes shot down? How many died at sea? How many foxholes were soldiers' graves? No, freedom isn't free. I heard the sound of TAPS one night, When everything was still I listened to the bugler play And felt a sudden chill. I wondered just how many times That TAPS had meant "Amen," When a flag had draped a coffin Of a brother or a friend. I thought of all the children, Of the mothers and the wives, Of fathers, sons and husbands With interrupted lives. I thought about a graveyard At the bottom of the sea Of unmarked graves in Arlington. No, freedom isn't free. ________________________________________ Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13

One Tough Cookie?

I’m not Wonder Woman. I’m sure this doesn’t shock you. It kinda shocks me, I guess. Today someone I don’t know offered to do something very kind for me to help me out at their own time and expense. They offered via e-mail, and I haven’t responded yet. It’s something I really need help with, yet, it’s so hard to accept the help. I’m very touched that it was offered, and it means a lot. I don’t fear owing this person anything. I help other people all the time. I insist on helping others often. So why is this so hard for me? I have spent my days during this deployment, alternating between “I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.” and “God, I can’t do this, help me!” So when help comes along, you’d think I’d pounce on it gratefully. I am grateful, by the way. I am deeply touched when anyone offers to help me or give me words of encouragement. It’s just hard to admit I need the help. I guess it’s because we chose this. Serving our country is important to our family, so we chose to be put through this. I guess part of me feels like when you make your bed, you’re supposed to lie in it and like it. Sort of like the first couple of rough months after our daughter came home to us. I felt like I was in waaaaaaay over my head, yet when people asked how I was doing or if I needed help, I just pasted a smile on my face and told them everything was fine. After all, I chose my child, so I should be able to handle it, right? It’s kind of funny: in these situations, I’ve begged God for help, but when it’s been offered, I’ve refused. I’ve been surrounded by wonderful people who have offered to serve me in kindness, and I cannot accept it joyfully as the gift it is. I feel ashamed when I have to accept help. A bit of it is that when someone vaguely offers to help if you need anything, you don’t know if they’re on the level, or just trying to be nice. Most of it though is, I wonder how fair it is for me to sign up for a challenging life, then lean on others when the going gets tough. After all, those other people didn’t sign up for this. I believe God has ordained all things. He has called my husband to a job that make my life very challenging at times. So does that mean that because God has directed our life, that I should be perfectly equipped to deal with it without asking for help, or does it mean that he will just surround me with the help I need as I need it? I gotta say, I don’t feel all that equipped to handle things all on my own. But I still feel bad reaching out for help. Kinda twisted, huh?