Last night, I got ready for bed. But before I headed that way I felt the distinct pull of my computer screen so I scrolled through a few blogs. I frequently read a blog called Brandi and Boys from a pastor’s wife in Tennessee. For some reason, I just like this family, even though I have only encountered them through my screen. After reading Brandi’s blog, I went to Pete’s (her husband) and he had posted a video of him roughhousing with their three boys. Three little boys were thrown around and as they screamed and giggled and threw themselves back at their daddy, I cried.
I cried. And they weren’t really tears of joy or sadness but a mix of both. I cried because I haven’t gotten to see Rob throw Max around and hear Max scream in delight. We have missed that and it BROKE my heart last night. I sat and I cried for us missing those moments this past year.
I cried tears of joy, because we are DAYS, DAYS yall, away from Rob being home with us...and even though this year was incredibly difficult, challenging and gut wrenchingly painful at moments, we are almost done. We are almost finished, and in just a few days I will get to sit back and laugh as my husband throws around our child and hear their squeals of delight.
I cried tears of sadness. As I listened to K-Love yesterday I heard a testimony shared. A woman was speaking. She was expressing her thankfulness for the ministry that K-LOVE provides. She was so thankful because that music had helped carry her through when she didn’t think she could take another step. Her husband was killed in Iraq just two months after she recommitted her life to Christ. And she was expressing her thanks for songs like Bring the Rain and Praise You in This Storm. Songs that carried me through our deployment, that gave me comfort when I didn’t think I could make it through another day. But I did make it, and Rob did too. He is back in the United States, waiting to come home, but no longer in the vulnerable war zone that we learned to accept as a part of our story.
That could be me. I could be watching my boys wrestle and play, I could be crying tears of overwhelming pain, I could be, I could be, I could be.
I cried a mix of tears last night. For what we missed, for what we are blessed with, for what is yet to come, that we have a yet to come, for those who were not so lucky, for those who gave their lives for you and me and our safety, for their wives and mothers and children who won’t get to sit back and watch as the boys wrestle and rough house. I grieved for my loss, praised God for Rob’s safety and grieved for everyone who has lost someone.
It was a strange mix of tears that left me in a strange place. And I’m still not sure how I feel about it in the light of morning. Death and Life all mixed together in my tears.
Always,
John 11:35 Jesus Wept.
1 comment:
back in april i did one of the hardest things you'll ever do as a military spouse and friend to those who have spouses in the military, i watched a close friend of ours bury her husband. it's been months now since that horrible day, but, i have this feeling.
as the countdown numbers get smaller, and the fob has been 'event-free,' i have this fearful feeling that comes over me every now then... what if he doens't make it home on his own?
i remember how posed and still posed jules is. after that horrible day and watching jules go through picking his casket, making marcus's vidoes so we would always remember him, watching her clutch the flag, and now watch her start her life of 'unknown' (all she's ever known is being an army wife), i told aaron he HAS to come home and get off the bus on his own because i just can't be that posed.
as so, as the countdown continues, 16 weeks and counting, i try to put this doubtful feeling out of mind or at least at the back of mind, and collect myself because my husband WILL come home, safe and alive. and i know this because i have faith like child (a child that doubts sometimes though).
Post a Comment