I have had many emotions since first hearing of the shootings last Thursday. My heart broke as I read the Facebook status update from a girl I know who recently moved to Fort Hood with her new husband. Immediately I Googled it to find more information.
At first, it was a horrible incident, but no details were known.
Then it came out that the shooter was not only a Major, but a psychiatrist.
The feelings I had at that point were indescribable. Mostly just extreme sadness.
I do not know the tragedy of war first-hand. I do, however, know it second- and third-hand, just as Major Hasan did. With a husband (and several friends) in an Army helping profession, I have seen the toll this can take on a person. And to be a psychiatrist at Walter Reed? That must have been a terribly difficult job. I’m not saying that this in any way justifies what he did. I guess what I am saying is that sometimes the unseen collateral from this war is the mental effect on Soldiers and those around them.
Some other thoughts:
~ To use President Obama’s words, “not speculating” about things we do not know is responsible. The night it happened, I was waiting for the press conference with General Cone to come on, and in that short hour, I was amazed how many things were speculated on. Even with the “of course, this is all speculation” caveat at the end of a long conversation, ideas were planted in peoples’ minds that may or may not be true. Remember this. Why even go there until we know?
~ NOT ALL MUSLIMS WANT TO KILL AMERICANS. In fact, “Muslim” and “American” are not mutually exclusive. Many Muslims ARE Americans. Many Muslims serve in the armed forces proudly. Not all Muslims are terrorists. (For that matter, not all terrorists are Muslims). Was Major Hasan a terrorist? I have absolutely no idea. Unless you want all Christians to be represented by Westboro Baptist Church (who consider the Fort Hood massacre as a judgment by God – the “Christian” God – on sinful America), please do not paint all Muslims with the extremist brush either.
~ Speaking out against the war is not illegal. Many great Soldiers are not in favor of this war and continue to follow orders. Some of the same people who cried out against the “hate crime” bill on the basis of it limiting free speech against homosexuality now seem to want to limit free speech against the government and its actions.
My prayers are with the families directly affected by this tragedy, as well as those indirectly affected. I think in some way the entire Army family has been affected, and I believe we all can feel that. It’s astounding grief.
I write this because I have seen a saddening amount of backlash over the last several days. In the midst of all our grief and fears, let’s not jump to conclusions. Let us not judge others on the basis of speculation. Instead, let’s pray for them. Show love to everyone, regardless of religion or ethnicity. And maybe we’re asking the wrong questions. Let’s start asking what we can do to help Soldiers, what we can do to support those in the military helping professions. That said, there is a lot of help available that people just do not take advantage of. Why is that? Maybe if we can begin to answer these questions, it will make us all better off.
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Monday, November 09, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Thoughts on a Rainy Sunday
Several people have asked me why I've stopped blogging, or at least writing so much. There are many reasons for this. One, admittedly, is Facebook. I post a lot of thoughts there, so the blog gets pretty much ignored. Then there's the fact that I completely and utterly decompress to Jon, so by the time I think to write about a given topic, I've probably already talked about it to death! Oh, then there's the small matter of being in school full time right now (should have my BA next spring!!!), and trying to do what I can to get ready for a new baby next month. (NEXT month? What??? When did THAT happen?)
The other reason is actually similar to why Jon stopped blogging. I started this out to chronicle being a Chaplain's wife, and I have few new experiences anymore. It's just life. Redstone is different from Hunter, which was different from Stewart, but at the end of the day, it's pretty much the same.
And, honestly, many of the things I would write about, I'm not really comfortable putting out there in cyberspace for anyone to read.
After listening to a story yesterday on NPR, Jon and I had a conversation about what it would look like to move "back home." I'll admit, there are times moving back to Cedar Springs seems appealing. My parents now live 4 hours away from there, so it's not "home" in that sense, but it is where I grew up. Every time I visit, I wish I could stay longer. Most of our siblings live within a 45 minute drive of there, and what I consider my home church - the one I went to and worked at in my early 20s - is just 10 minutes away.
But could I do it?
When Jon was in Iraq the first time, our plan was to go Active Duty. Long story short, that didn't work out. He came home in May of 2006, and we weren't sure where life would take us. We ended up moving back to Atlanta to work. I remember being completely terrified of this. Away from Michigan? Away from my family? Away from home?
But you know, home isn't Cedar Springs anymore. Home is not Savannah nor Huntsville. We often say that home is wherever we both are, but when he is deployed, I certainly don't consider THAT home! Many people use the phrase "Home is where the Army sends you" - and I think that right now, I tend to agree.
I feel more at home with other spouses than I do with friends from Michigan. I feel like I could walk onto any Army post and be integrated quite quickly.
A couple weeks ago I was on the phone with a good friend from high school. We used to do everything together. She got married a year after me, had a girl 7 weeks after Sophie was born, and had a baby boy in March. In that way, our lives have remained similar.
But really, they couldn't be more different. She lives in the next town over from our high school, in a small community. She is happy with her life, and I'm happy for her.
But it's not for me.
My life is the Army now. Jon and I have talked recently about how intimidated I used to be by it all. The first few social functions I went to I was scared to death. I didn't know when to stand, when to sit, how to interact with people. It was all so unknown.
Not anymore. Changes of Command, Hail & Farewells, Coffees, FRGs, even Memorial Services - they're all a part of life. I can tell rank by glancing at a Soldier's chest (though I'll admit, I still have to mentally count rockers), Taps playing at the end of the day has become common, and all my friends know exactly what it's like to have a husband overseas. I am more comfortable here than I would be anywhere else. I appreciate the diversity of people I meet, and I realize that, regardless of rank and position, that's all they all are - just people. People who introduce me to worlds quite unlike mine, people who might look at things differently.
I'm not done blogging. You'll still get your Sophie updates :-) - and I'm sure many more once Baby Boy arrives! And I'll still fill you in about what's going on now and then - but as far as the "Army firsts" - I think those are getting fewer & further between. And I'm realizing that what it means to be a "Chaplain's wife" is different with every person, every post, every year. I have other Chaplains' wives as friends who view this ministry vastly different than we do, so their experience looks different. So, I'll keep telling my story - just don't be surprised if I continue to not update very frequently. (If you DO want to know what's going on in my life, though, add me as a Facebook friend - that's a better way! :-)
The other reason is actually similar to why Jon stopped blogging. I started this out to chronicle being a Chaplain's wife, and I have few new experiences anymore. It's just life. Redstone is different from Hunter, which was different from Stewart, but at the end of the day, it's pretty much the same.
And, honestly, many of the things I would write about, I'm not really comfortable putting out there in cyberspace for anyone to read.
After listening to a story yesterday on NPR, Jon and I had a conversation about what it would look like to move "back home." I'll admit, there are times moving back to Cedar Springs seems appealing. My parents now live 4 hours away from there, so it's not "home" in that sense, but it is where I grew up. Every time I visit, I wish I could stay longer. Most of our siblings live within a 45 minute drive of there, and what I consider my home church - the one I went to and worked at in my early 20s - is just 10 minutes away.
But could I do it?
When Jon was in Iraq the first time, our plan was to go Active Duty. Long story short, that didn't work out. He came home in May of 2006, and we weren't sure where life would take us. We ended up moving back to Atlanta to work. I remember being completely terrified of this. Away from Michigan? Away from my family? Away from home?
But you know, home isn't Cedar Springs anymore. Home is not Savannah nor Huntsville. We often say that home is wherever we both are, but when he is deployed, I certainly don't consider THAT home! Many people use the phrase "Home is where the Army sends you" - and I think that right now, I tend to agree.
I feel more at home with other spouses than I do with friends from Michigan. I feel like I could walk onto any Army post and be integrated quite quickly.
A couple weeks ago I was on the phone with a good friend from high school. We used to do everything together. She got married a year after me, had a girl 7 weeks after Sophie was born, and had a baby boy in March. In that way, our lives have remained similar.
But really, they couldn't be more different. She lives in the next town over from our high school, in a small community. She is happy with her life, and I'm happy for her.
But it's not for me.
My life is the Army now. Jon and I have talked recently about how intimidated I used to be by it all. The first few social functions I went to I was scared to death. I didn't know when to stand, when to sit, how to interact with people. It was all so unknown.
Not anymore. Changes of Command, Hail & Farewells, Coffees, FRGs, even Memorial Services - they're all a part of life. I can tell rank by glancing at a Soldier's chest (though I'll admit, I still have to mentally count rockers), Taps playing at the end of the day has become common, and all my friends know exactly what it's like to have a husband overseas. I am more comfortable here than I would be anywhere else. I appreciate the diversity of people I meet, and I realize that, regardless of rank and position, that's all they all are - just people. People who introduce me to worlds quite unlike mine, people who might look at things differently.
I'm not done blogging. You'll still get your Sophie updates :-) - and I'm sure many more once Baby Boy arrives! And I'll still fill you in about what's going on now and then - but as far as the "Army firsts" - I think those are getting fewer & further between. And I'm realizing that what it means to be a "Chaplain's wife" is different with every person, every post, every year. I have other Chaplains' wives as friends who view this ministry vastly different than we do, so their experience looks different. So, I'll keep telling my story - just don't be surprised if I continue to not update very frequently. (If you DO want to know what's going on in my life, though, add me as a Facebook friend - that's a better way! :-)
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Contemplating...
I have a post nearly ready to be published, about the people I've met and the things I've done since moving here. I just can't seem to finish it right now...
My thoughts are with my old roommate from Moody. Kandice, who just turned 28, was diagnosed this month with inflammatory breast cancer. She has been preparing to go to the mission field in a Creative Access country in Central Asia to work with the deaf. She's meeting with an oncologist for the first time, even as I type this. Please keep her in your prayers...
My sister-in-law Amy just posted this video this week from a conference she recently attended sponsored by Living Beyond Breast Cancer. I encourage you to take a few minutes and watch it.
My thoughts are with my old roommate from Moody. Kandice, who just turned 28, was diagnosed this month with inflammatory breast cancer. She has been preparing to go to the mission field in a Creative Access country in Central Asia to work with the deaf. She's meeting with an oncologist for the first time, even as I type this. Please keep her in your prayers...
My sister-in-law Amy just posted this video this week from a conference she recently attended sponsored by Living Beyond Breast Cancer. I encourage you to take a few minutes and watch it.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Turn, Turn, Turn...
Saturday night. It's been a good day.
This morning Sophie and I sat out on the deck with books (I reading mine, she eating hers), coffee, and pancakes. It was a beautiful morning. Jon and I used to do that every Saturday... today was our last in this house. It's kinda the end of a lot of things...
Our PWOC Installation Ceremony was Wednesday. It is so incredible to think about all the things that have happened since I was installed as President at last May's Installation... and when we installed Misty as the new President in December (remember- we thought we were moving to Missouri!) I'll admit, it was a little bittersweet. Not only am I leaving (albeit only an hour away, but it will be a new PWOC), but many of my friends are as well. Who knows where I'll run into them next...
PWOC has been such a big part of my life. It is what got me connected, it's really what made me start liking the Army life. With Jon gone, they really have been my family. It is sad to me that I won't see the same faces every Wednesday morning... the first of many good-byes over these next years, I suppose...
Just as any time you leave a group in which you held a leadership role, it involves a certain level of humility. The new president won't do things the same way I did- which was different (though similar) to the way Misty did them. Next year's Ft. Stewart PWOC will have a different flair- and for the health of the organization, that's a good thing. I'm excited to see where it leads.
Yesterday we had a Farewell for our Installation Chaplain's wife as our monthly Chaplain Spouses Coffee. (It was held at the Savannah Tea room- lovely! I had a light Pomegranate White Tea and delicious Vegetable Quiche). Like PWOC, the personality of this group will change with new leadership. I have gotten to know both the outgoing and the incoming (they are both incredible women), and I look forward to seeing how the group shifts over the next few years.
I also finished my two classes this week (with an A in both!), attended the Hunter Spouses Club Installation Ceremony, and by this time on Tuesday night will (hopefully) be sitting in our new house.
As with every closing chapter in my life, along with the sadness for what is lost comes the anticipation for what is gained...
This morning Sophie and I sat out on the deck with books (I reading mine, she eating hers), coffee, and pancakes. It was a beautiful morning. Jon and I used to do that every Saturday... today was our last in this house. It's kinda the end of a lot of things...
Our PWOC Installation Ceremony was Wednesday. It is so incredible to think about all the things that have happened since I was installed as President at last May's Installation... and when we installed Misty as the new President in December (remember- we thought we were moving to Missouri!) I'll admit, it was a little bittersweet. Not only am I leaving (albeit only an hour away, but it will be a new PWOC), but many of my friends are as well. Who knows where I'll run into them next...
PWOC has been such a big part of my life. It is what got me connected, it's really what made me start liking the Army life. With Jon gone, they really have been my family. It is sad to me that I won't see the same faces every Wednesday morning... the first of many good-byes over these next years, I suppose...
Just as any time you leave a group in which you held a leadership role, it involves a certain level of humility. The new president won't do things the same way I did- which was different (though similar) to the way Misty did them. Next year's Ft. Stewart PWOC will have a different flair- and for the health of the organization, that's a good thing. I'm excited to see where it leads.
Yesterday we had a Farewell for our Installation Chaplain's wife as our monthly Chaplain Spouses Coffee. (It was held at the Savannah Tea room- lovely! I had a light Pomegranate White Tea and delicious Vegetable Quiche). Like PWOC, the personality of this group will change with new leadership. I have gotten to know both the outgoing and the incoming (they are both incredible women), and I look forward to seeing how the group shifts over the next few years.
I also finished my two classes this week (with an A in both!), attended the Hunter Spouses Club Installation Ceremony, and by this time on Tuesday night will (hopefully) be sitting in our new house.
As with every closing chapter in my life, along with the sadness for what is lost comes the anticipation for what is gained...
Monday, April 21, 2008
thinking through it...
So, it's been a while since I posted.
The last week has been... well... up and down...
A couple things have happened that I'll write about in separate posts.
Jon & I have been reading a book together while he's deployed. It helps us have something to talk about other than just "catching up." When this book was published, I only heard bad things about it; it's funny- now that I'm actually reading it for myself, I realize how much it had been misconstrued. Weird how that happens. I have to wonder how many people I heard criticize it- or criticize the author himself- ever took the time to read it. I think they would be amazed, as was I, how much they actually agree with. I keep finding phrases and ideas that I remember being quite controversial... and, when taken out of context, they sound heretical- but, when you look at the whole, it actually makes a lot of sense. Oddly, the author exhorts readers to approach Scripture the same way- in its entirety.
It has really stretched me. Though, I will admit, it's hard- it's hard for someone like me to admit that maybe, just maybe, I don't have all the answers... or that someone else's answers might, just might, be true.
I have realized, more than anything, that spirituality is a journey. It's a process. It's not like learning addition, where mastery is possible, let alone simple. Where is my journey leading? Not sure yet. I do know that I have the Bible, and Spirit-led wisdom. I also know that there are a lot of people with that same Bible and that same Spirit-led wisdom who are in an entirely different place than me. And that's ok.
The last week has been... well... up and down...
A couple things have happened that I'll write about in separate posts.
Jon & I have been reading a book together while he's deployed. It helps us have something to talk about other than just "catching up." When this book was published, I only heard bad things about it; it's funny- now that I'm actually reading it for myself, I realize how much it had been misconstrued. Weird how that happens. I have to wonder how many people I heard criticize it- or criticize the author himself- ever took the time to read it. I think they would be amazed, as was I, how much they actually agree with. I keep finding phrases and ideas that I remember being quite controversial... and, when taken out of context, they sound heretical- but, when you look at the whole, it actually makes a lot of sense. Oddly, the author exhorts readers to approach Scripture the same way- in its entirety.
It has really stretched me. Though, I will admit, it's hard- it's hard for someone like me to admit that maybe, just maybe, I don't have all the answers... or that someone else's answers might, just might, be true.
I have realized, more than anything, that spirituality is a journey. It's a process. It's not like learning addition, where mastery is possible, let alone simple. Where is my journey leading? Not sure yet. I do know that I have the Bible, and Spirit-led wisdom. I also know that there are a lot of people with that same Bible and that same Spirit-led wisdom who are in an entirely different place than me. And that's ok.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
On this, our third...
It has been a great three years.
Well, to be honest, the first year, not so much.
The last two, the best of my life.
Three years ago, I barely knew my husband.
Today, he is my best friend.
I have a friend (are you allowed to say that about someone you've never met?) who celebrates their anniversary as the "family birthday"- it gives you something to celebrate even when your spouse isn't around. The holiday isn't so much for the couple exclusively as it is a way to commemorate the birth of their new family. I think we're going to start doing that. Unfortunately, Sophie isn't much into parties at this stage in life... I think we'll just celebrate tonight by getting a double-chocolate cake from Ruby Tuesday and bringing it home to eat while watching The Office.
Chocolate cake and The Office are fun.
It would be much more fun if Jon were here.
Our first anniversary we were apart, but he was to come home a few weeks after it.
Last year we were together.
We are now apart again.
I remember at the CHOBC (Chaplain School) Spouses' Seminar, the school's commandant's wife was talking about how they spent about half their anniversaries together. At the time, I don't think I believed her- well, I didn't believe that would happen to ME, anyway. Of course, I was mere days away from my wedding at that point, and truth be told, was probably living in some distorted dream-world.
I have a friend who has spent exactly 0 of 13 anniversaries with her husband.
I can't complain.
Jon & I were talking yesterday about how, three years ago yesterday, our families met for the first time. Jon's dad, my parents, Jon, & I met for lunch. I had never met his dad, and he had only met my parents once. Our family really went out on a limb in trusting us through all that. I'm sure most people thought we were making a bad decision, and they just loved us through it. Thank you. Sometimes Jon & I look back at that day, shake our heads, and laugh. What else can you do? Beth & I watched parts of my wedding video last week (not the ceremony itself- we had people record messages to us in a separate room). It reminded me of the awkward moments of that day... oh, to be a fly on the wall in some of those car rides home... wait, never mind- I don't think I want to know...
We now have a beautiful daughter and a wonderful marriage.
Every year is better and better.
I love you, Jonathan. I love you, I love you, I love you...
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Stuff of Parenthood
I had an interesting feeling the other day in the waiting room at the hospital.
I was thumbing through a magazine for grandparents- it was actually pretty cool. Its secondary premise was informing new grandparents of all the things that they were told to do back when they were new parents, that now are the mark of a horrible parent. Now, you see, if you put your baby on their stomach to sleep you are probably handing them over to SIDS. Nursing is once again the preferable way to go, according to literature anyway; don't even think about giving your infant water in a bottle; you should feed your baby every time she wants it- banish the thought of a schedule!
It also offered suggestions on how to be a good grandparent.
Which leads me to its primary premise- getting you to buy stuff.
(Did I forget to mention this "magazine" was published by Fisher Price???)
Of course, I was wise to their little scheme. Their blatant and unabashed marketing won't work on me, I thought.
Until I started seeing the pictures of the happy little babies.
And the smart little babies.
You see, they realize that plain old toys don't sell to new moms.
Nope, today's mom has way too much pressure for her child to succeed in every area of life.
Today's mom buys developmental toys.
If you don't have a mobile with bright, contrasting colors, your child won't ever be able to focus- you're dooming him to a lifetime of glasses!!
If your precious little one doesn't have a play gym with things to grab at, he will be behind all his classmates in motor skills!!
If you don't have a hanging crib toy with mirrors and things to look at, he will never be happy enough to go to sleep (didn't you know? stuffed animals in the crib are another death sentence...)- and without the mirrors, he will not know that he controls his environment until way too late!
Then there's the safety aspect- no ordinary infant bathtub will suffice- only the Fisher Price Rainforest one- equipped with the latest in safety equipment- and a padded armrest for Mom!
It worked on me.
For about 10 seconds.
Then I realized that our stuff is ok. Yep, most of it is either from garage sales or given to us- and it's all in great condition. I'm not saying developmental toys are bad or wrong- Sophie has some and will have more. I just maintain that the same end result can be attained through other means. It amazed me how I felt like I needed to have all that stuff to be a good parent. That I was doing my child a disservice by not depending on toys for her development. That the only way to ensure her success would be to follow all the latest research (which, I'm sure, in another two or three decades when I'm a new grandparent will all be wrong again anyway...). It doesn't matter if the mobile on Sophie's swing is of tan teddy bears and not bright red and blue shapes- she'll learn to focus. We read to her. We interact with her. We smile at her and hug her and kiss her. We show her pictures. We expose her to different textures and music. We give her "tummy time"- which she happens to love.
When people would talk about the responsibility of being a parent, I never quite "got it." Now I do. I feel like every decision I make will impact the rest of her life. But you know what? It will all be ok. She'll be a good kid. I'm sure I'll make mistakes- and I'm sure her younger siblings will have a slightly different experience than our little guinea pig.
I do know that I don't want to raise her to be materialistic and always need all the latest and coolest.
I also know that no toy can replace me and the time I spend with her.
That said, I thought I'd share this picture. Without developmental toys, we thought we'd better get a head up on teaching her to read now... (said tongue in cheek, if you didn't catch that...)
I was thumbing through a magazine for grandparents- it was actually pretty cool. Its secondary premise was informing new grandparents of all the things that they were told to do back when they were new parents, that now are the mark of a horrible parent. Now, you see, if you put your baby on their stomach to sleep you are probably handing them over to SIDS. Nursing is once again the preferable way to go, according to literature anyway; don't even think about giving your infant water in a bottle; you should feed your baby every time she wants it- banish the thought of a schedule!
It also offered suggestions on how to be a good grandparent.
Which leads me to its primary premise- getting you to buy stuff.
(Did I forget to mention this "magazine" was published by Fisher Price???)
Of course, I was wise to their little scheme. Their blatant and unabashed marketing won't work on me, I thought.
Until I started seeing the pictures of the happy little babies.
And the smart little babies.
You see, they realize that plain old toys don't sell to new moms.
Nope, today's mom has way too much pressure for her child to succeed in every area of life.
Today's mom buys developmental toys.
If you don't have a mobile with bright, contrasting colors, your child won't ever be able to focus- you're dooming him to a lifetime of glasses!!
If your precious little one doesn't have a play gym with things to grab at, he will be behind all his classmates in motor skills!!
If you don't have a hanging crib toy with mirrors and things to look at, he will never be happy enough to go to sleep (didn't you know? stuffed animals in the crib are another death sentence...)- and without the mirrors, he will not know that he controls his environment until way too late!
Then there's the safety aspect- no ordinary infant bathtub will suffice- only the Fisher Price Rainforest one- equipped with the latest in safety equipment- and a padded armrest for Mom!
It worked on me.
For about 10 seconds.
Then I realized that our stuff is ok. Yep, most of it is either from garage sales or given to us- and it's all in great condition. I'm not saying developmental toys are bad or wrong- Sophie has some and will have more. I just maintain that the same end result can be attained through other means. It amazed me how I felt like I needed to have all that stuff to be a good parent. That I was doing my child a disservice by not depending on toys for her development. That the only way to ensure her success would be to follow all the latest research (which, I'm sure, in another two or three decades when I'm a new grandparent will all be wrong again anyway...). It doesn't matter if the mobile on Sophie's swing is of tan teddy bears and not bright red and blue shapes- she'll learn to focus. We read to her. We interact with her. We smile at her and hug her and kiss her. We show her pictures. We expose her to different textures and music. We give her "tummy time"- which she happens to love.
When people would talk about the responsibility of being a parent, I never quite "got it." Now I do. I feel like every decision I make will impact the rest of her life. But you know what? It will all be ok. She'll be a good kid. I'm sure I'll make mistakes- and I'm sure her younger siblings will have a slightly different experience than our little guinea pig.
I do know that I don't want to raise her to be materialistic and always need all the latest and coolest.
I also know that no toy can replace me and the time I spend with her.
That said, I thought I'd share this picture. Without developmental toys, we thought we'd better get a head up on teaching her to read now... (said tongue in cheek, if you didn't catch that...)
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Scars
Grief.
That word is so heavy- it carries with it such a somber connotation. As soon as you read it, it probably elicited some inexplicable emotion... for most, it is probably associated with the loss of a loved one. Without trivializing that at all, I'd like to address a different form...
Megan's blog about scars last week prompted me to reflect again on a period Jon and I went through when he was getting ready to come back from Iraq over two years ago. As you know, we barely knew each other when we married and he deployed- it was a bit of a whirlwind relationship. As we were discussing what it would be like to actually live together, we realized that there were things about our pasts that we had not fully "gotten over"...
About that time, I was reading (well... ok... more like skimming to get to the parts that interested me...) a book called Fighting for your Marriage- it is, oddly enough, a part of the Army marriage curriculum. In it there was a chapter on the grief process. The authors maintain that one can- and should- grieve over what is lost by gaining a marriage. That may seem like an oxymoron at first glance... Marriage is great! I would trade it any day over being single! (I hope you can say that anyway... ;-) But really, think about it. Aren't there things about being single you miss? Freedom? Opportunities? Being able to eat Taco Bell whenever you wanted (ok, maybe that was just me...) Maybe it was relationships that you had to release- or relationships that took a different priority. In some ways, spending the first year apart from my husband made that easier- I could ease into "married life" a bit... but at the same time, not having any mutual friends or connections made this incredibly difficult. We had different lives, different histories, different priorities, different friends. I am so thankful that we were able to accept those things in ourselves- and each other. Those were hard, dark days, to be sure. It is one thing to go through it yourself- but to give your spouse room to do the same is difficult.
There were things lain on the altar of our marriage, things that we never cried over. And I'll be honest- I think we would both agree that there were some things we didn't quite want to let go of. Having sorrow for what is lost is not wrong- hanging onto it is. As Megan pointed out, the only way for a wound to heal is to care for it- if ignored, it will only breed infection.
Through the last couple of years, we have both realized that what we lost pales in comparison to what we gained.
We have also built such a trust that enables each of us to have greater freedoms- to regain some things that were lost- but with a different priority.
I think that this could be applied to a lot of areas. Jon and I were talking about this grief process the other day at lunch, and how much giving each other space to feel sad about things lost really allowed us to get beyond some barriers in our relationship. We discussed how we are going through the same thing with Sophia- I love her inexplicably- and yet, I grieve for the loss of freedom to go where I want when I want. I grieve that I have to share Jon with someone else. Heck, I grieve a solid night's sleep!
In Megan's discussion of scars, she pointed out that we should not aim to erase the past from our memories; instead, we should allow them to shape our lives for the glory of God. Hers was in the context of scars from experiences that were out of our control- I submit that the same could be said about the scars that result from our own (even good) decisions- just because what I chose is good, that doesn't mean that what I didn't choose was all bad...
The scars that we carry can come in so many different forms... some wounds are deep, some are surface, but all need to heal... and in allowing that, we can appreciate what is so much more than what was...
That word is so heavy- it carries with it such a somber connotation. As soon as you read it, it probably elicited some inexplicable emotion... for most, it is probably associated with the loss of a loved one. Without trivializing that at all, I'd like to address a different form...
Megan's blog about scars last week prompted me to reflect again on a period Jon and I went through when he was getting ready to come back from Iraq over two years ago. As you know, we barely knew each other when we married and he deployed- it was a bit of a whirlwind relationship. As we were discussing what it would be like to actually live together, we realized that there were things about our pasts that we had not fully "gotten over"...
About that time, I was reading (well... ok... more like skimming to get to the parts that interested me...) a book called Fighting for your Marriage- it is, oddly enough, a part of the Army marriage curriculum. In it there was a chapter on the grief process. The authors maintain that one can- and should- grieve over what is lost by gaining a marriage. That may seem like an oxymoron at first glance... Marriage is great! I would trade it any day over being single! (I hope you can say that anyway... ;-) But really, think about it. Aren't there things about being single you miss? Freedom? Opportunities? Being able to eat Taco Bell whenever you wanted (ok, maybe that was just me...) Maybe it was relationships that you had to release- or relationships that took a different priority. In some ways, spending the first year apart from my husband made that easier- I could ease into "married life" a bit... but at the same time, not having any mutual friends or connections made this incredibly difficult. We had different lives, different histories, different priorities, different friends. I am so thankful that we were able to accept those things in ourselves- and each other. Those were hard, dark days, to be sure. It is one thing to go through it yourself- but to give your spouse room to do the same is difficult.
There were things lain on the altar of our marriage, things that we never cried over. And I'll be honest- I think we would both agree that there were some things we didn't quite want to let go of. Having sorrow for what is lost is not wrong- hanging onto it is. As Megan pointed out, the only way for a wound to heal is to care for it- if ignored, it will only breed infection.
Through the last couple of years, we have both realized that what we lost pales in comparison to what we gained.
We have also built such a trust that enables each of us to have greater freedoms- to regain some things that were lost- but with a different priority.
I think that this could be applied to a lot of areas. Jon and I were talking about this grief process the other day at lunch, and how much giving each other space to feel sad about things lost really allowed us to get beyond some barriers in our relationship. We discussed how we are going through the same thing with Sophia- I love her inexplicably- and yet, I grieve for the loss of freedom to go where I want when I want. I grieve that I have to share Jon with someone else. Heck, I grieve a solid night's sleep!
In Megan's discussion of scars, she pointed out that we should not aim to erase the past from our memories; instead, we should allow them to shape our lives for the glory of God. Hers was in the context of scars from experiences that were out of our control- I submit that the same could be said about the scars that result from our own (even good) decisions- just because what I chose is good, that doesn't mean that what I didn't choose was all bad...
The scars that we carry can come in so many different forms... some wounds are deep, some are surface, but all need to heal... and in allowing that, we can appreciate what is so much more than what was...
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Lessons Learned
I have many things I would like to write about, and a few posts will be coming in the next few days about my week!
But for now, I want to write about my husband.
He is absolutely wonderful.
Let me explain.
He not only listens to me, shows affection to me, and is altogether kind to me, but he also does things to make me feel special.
When I took my finals earlier this spring, I came home to freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and milk! (and if you know Jon, you know that while he is a fantastic cook, baking isn't high on his priority list...)
We got home late last night, and to celebrate him doing well on his PT (physical training) Test on Friday, we decided to order pizza (after having eaten very healthy foods for the past couple weeks...)
I went out to pick it up, and when I pulled in the driveway, he met me at the door, wearing khakis and a collared shirt. That's when I knew he was up to something.
As I got closer to the house, I could hear Nora Jones playing in the background, and he led me into the dining room.
He had changed the tablecloth, lit candles, and set out the fine china.
For our pizza.
He said he wanted to make me smile.
I write this not because last night was anything unique- in fact, quite the opposite.
Having a husband who goes out of his way to do things (even small things like bringing me chocolate when he returns from a trip) just to make me happy is an indescribable feeling.
The very first night we talked, two and a half years ago, he had just gotten done taking a marriage & family counseling course at seminary. I remember him speaking about how he was determined that the key to a happy marriage is waking up every day and thinking of something nice to do for your spouse- and do it!
We didn't even know we would date then, much less get married.
But you know what? I have met countless couples who have been married longer than I've been alive who haven't seemed to realize this yet.
What is your spouse's love language? (words of affirmation; quality time; gifts; acts of kindness; physical affection- though I am CONVINCED that food is a separate love language...)
Speak it to him or her, even if it's not the language you prefer to use.
That is my challenge to you: whether you have been married one week or fifty years, do one thing today to make your spouse feel special. To make him or her smile.
Not married? Do something kind for a friend- putting others before yourself is the key to any healthy relationship; not just marriage.
Until next time...
But for now, I want to write about my husband.
He is absolutely wonderful.
Let me explain.
He not only listens to me, shows affection to me, and is altogether kind to me, but he also does things to make me feel special.
When I took my finals earlier this spring, I came home to freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and milk! (and if you know Jon, you know that while he is a fantastic cook, baking isn't high on his priority list...)
We got home late last night, and to celebrate him doing well on his PT (physical training) Test on Friday, we decided to order pizza (after having eaten very healthy foods for the past couple weeks...)
I went out to pick it up, and when I pulled in the driveway, he met me at the door, wearing khakis and a collared shirt. That's when I knew he was up to something.
As I got closer to the house, I could hear Nora Jones playing in the background, and he led me into the dining room.
He had changed the tablecloth, lit candles, and set out the fine china.
For our pizza.
He said he wanted to make me smile.
I write this not because last night was anything unique- in fact, quite the opposite.
Having a husband who goes out of his way to do things (even small things like bringing me chocolate when he returns from a trip) just to make me happy is an indescribable feeling.
The very first night we talked, two and a half years ago, he had just gotten done taking a marriage & family counseling course at seminary. I remember him speaking about how he was determined that the key to a happy marriage is waking up every day and thinking of something nice to do for your spouse- and do it!
We didn't even know we would date then, much less get married.
But you know what? I have met countless couples who have been married longer than I've been alive who haven't seemed to realize this yet.
What is your spouse's love language? (words of affirmation; quality time; gifts; acts of kindness; physical affection- though I am CONVINCED that food is a separate love language...)
Speak it to him or her, even if it's not the language you prefer to use.
That is my challenge to you: whether you have been married one week or fifty years, do one thing today to make your spouse feel special. To make him or her smile.
Not married? Do something kind for a friend- putting others before yourself is the key to any healthy relationship; not just marriage.
Until next time...
Thursday, March 22, 2007
time to say goodbye
I began this morning yet another thing that has been on my "to do" list for a long time...
I am in the process of going through all my pictures from middle and high school. It is pretty interesting, looking at glimpses of the people and things I used to hold so dear.
I have quite literally forgotten that many of those people existed... and yet, I have hundreds of pictures of them.
Some of them I saved, of course. I have two friends from high school I still keep in touch with. Two. I kept ones of them.
I also kept a couple pictures from youth group days (probably because you've been reading, Derrick...)- those really were good times.
But you know what? The overwhelming majority of them I'm outright throwing away. I suppose everyone hits that point in life, the point that you realize all those adults that told you you wouldn't be friends forever were right. I maintain that I still have Sara and Beth... which is more than most people probably do.
I'll admit, it was harder to part with college pictures. Those friends were in the more recent past, and they also were a bigger part of shaping who I am... even still, I only saved a few of the group pictures...
And THEN... there were the letters... boxes of notes from junior high (though now they just skip the paper and text message each other...)
I have moved this stuff several times; not doing it again... so we now have a cleared-out spare room if you ever want to come see us!!!
I am in the process of going through all my pictures from middle and high school. It is pretty interesting, looking at glimpses of the people and things I used to hold so dear.
I have quite literally forgotten that many of those people existed... and yet, I have hundreds of pictures of them.
Some of them I saved, of course. I have two friends from high school I still keep in touch with. Two. I kept ones of them.
I also kept a couple pictures from youth group days (probably because you've been reading, Derrick...)- those really were good times.
But you know what? The overwhelming majority of them I'm outright throwing away. I suppose everyone hits that point in life, the point that you realize all those adults that told you you wouldn't be friends forever were right. I maintain that I still have Sara and Beth... which is more than most people probably do.
I'll admit, it was harder to part with college pictures. Those friends were in the more recent past, and they also were a bigger part of shaping who I am... even still, I only saved a few of the group pictures...
And THEN... there were the letters... boxes of notes from junior high (though now they just skip the paper and text message each other...)
I have moved this stuff several times; not doing it again... so we now have a cleared-out spare room if you ever want to come see us!!!
Sunday, January 28, 2007
fixing the unbroken
i'm sitting in a motel room bored out of my mind.
okokok, so that may be a slight overstatement... but just barely. jon is at drill, and i am waiting for him. i briefly considered staying home this weekend, then i remembered what it was like the time i DIDN'T go with him...
anyway, this time on my hands prompted me to make a change to my blog. i attempted doing this a few months ago, but when the template changed, it did some crazy things to the site- it was like the new one was on top of the old one. i quickly changed back to the original and took it as a sign that i shouldn't try to fix something that isn't broken.
then, i went to josh's site... and realized that blogger beta is equipped with new template options- woohoo! (what? copying him? no. not at all.)
i'm not so sure i agree with that statement anyway- "if it's not broken, don't fix it." i think that just because something is still functional, that doesn't mean it can't get better.
and... with all of these new changes in life, i suppose my blog needs a lift too. (side note- i found the camera this week, and jon found the cord- pics soon I PROMISE!!) i have realized that i am, in many ways, a completely different person than i was two years ago...
two years ago next weekend (why do i remember these things?), jon gave me a ring. i was already starting to plan a wedding, calling friends and family to let them know the news!
i view life much differently now than i did then. two years of marriage- one spent with a spouse in a war- will do that to you. i have joined a new family, gotten to know my own in a different way, met new friends, and gone through things i never imagined. i'd like to think i'm much less critical and judgemental now. i feel that i am. i realize that if i expect people to accept me for who i am, i must in turn accept them for who they are- even if it is very different from me. i have learned to be much more gracious and much less harsh. i have realized that i don't know as much as i thought i did.
i hope you enjoy the new look...
okokok, so that may be a slight overstatement... but just barely. jon is at drill, and i am waiting for him. i briefly considered staying home this weekend, then i remembered what it was like the time i DIDN'T go with him...
anyway, this time on my hands prompted me to make a change to my blog. i attempted doing this a few months ago, but when the template changed, it did some crazy things to the site- it was like the new one was on top of the old one. i quickly changed back to the original and took it as a sign that i shouldn't try to fix something that isn't broken.
then, i went to josh's site... and realized that blogger beta is equipped with new template options- woohoo! (what? copying him? no. not at all.)
i'm not so sure i agree with that statement anyway- "if it's not broken, don't fix it." i think that just because something is still functional, that doesn't mean it can't get better.
and... with all of these new changes in life, i suppose my blog needs a lift too. (side note- i found the camera this week, and jon found the cord- pics soon I PROMISE!!) i have realized that i am, in many ways, a completely different person than i was two years ago...
two years ago next weekend (why do i remember these things?), jon gave me a ring. i was already starting to plan a wedding, calling friends and family to let them know the news!
i view life much differently now than i did then. two years of marriage- one spent with a spouse in a war- will do that to you. i have joined a new family, gotten to know my own in a different way, met new friends, and gone through things i never imagined. i'd like to think i'm much less critical and judgemental now. i feel that i am. i realize that if i expect people to accept me for who i am, i must in turn accept them for who they are- even if it is very different from me. i have learned to be much more gracious and much less harsh. i have realized that i don't know as much as i thought i did.
i hope you enjoy the new look...
Friday, January 12, 2007
from monday night
i felt like i could vomit.
the sky was starting to darken. it had been quite sunny today after a heavy rain last night. i have had increasing feelings of emotion about this evening- anticipation mixed with fear, doubt, and excitement. i walked into the building, not quite knowing which of those feelings was the strongest.
i have taken the plunge. four years since i waved good-bye to moody bible institute, i find myself enrolled in more college classes. this time, i’m attending columbia college, and will major in history with a minor in education.
so here i sit. the professor is talking about the city of ur (sidenote, i have jon’s laptop, which happens to contain an 80-slide power point of ur- i’m looking at pictures of what she’s drawing on the white board…)
now that i’m here, i feel much better. students in front of me are furiously writing every word the professor says. the woman in front of me is working out the cramp in her hand. that i can see, i’m the only one with a laptop. nice. i’m sitting in the back corner (close to an outlet) with no one next to me. there are probably 25 students, most military. some are adorned in ACUs, others just have the distinct haircut.
it is certainly and odd feeling, going back to school. I haven’t completed an assigned reading- let alone written a paper- in years…
i have now been in class for an hour and 45 minutes- only three hours and 15 minutes left (yes, for those of you who are math-impaired- that’s FIVE hours!)
this is going to be a long night…
the sky was starting to darken. it had been quite sunny today after a heavy rain last night. i have had increasing feelings of emotion about this evening- anticipation mixed with fear, doubt, and excitement. i walked into the building, not quite knowing which of those feelings was the strongest.
i have taken the plunge. four years since i waved good-bye to moody bible institute, i find myself enrolled in more college classes. this time, i’m attending columbia college, and will major in history with a minor in education.
so here i sit. the professor is talking about the city of ur (sidenote, i have jon’s laptop, which happens to contain an 80-slide power point of ur- i’m looking at pictures of what she’s drawing on the white board…)
now that i’m here, i feel much better. students in front of me are furiously writing every word the professor says. the woman in front of me is working out the cramp in her hand. that i can see, i’m the only one with a laptop. nice. i’m sitting in the back corner (close to an outlet) with no one next to me. there are probably 25 students, most military. some are adorned in ACUs, others just have the distinct haircut.
it is certainly and odd feeling, going back to school. I haven’t completed an assigned reading- let alone written a paper- in years…
i have now been in class for an hour and 45 minutes- only three hours and 15 minutes left (yes, for those of you who are math-impaired- that’s FIVE hours!)
this is going to be a long night…
Friday, December 22, 2006
peace in the storm
december 23, 2001. five years ago today.
when i woke up that morning, i was in a hurry. it was a sunday, and i had decided late the night before to stay over at my friend sara's house, instead of trying to brave it home in the typical michigan blizzard. being that it was a sunday, i had to leave her house quite early in the morning to make it home to get ready in time for church.
the alarm sounded, i grabbed my sweatshirt and headed for the door. i stopped to get my keys from the counter, but they were not there. i must have left them in the car, i thought.
i headed out the door to a still-dark december morning. the chill in the air was biting, and i headed quickly for my car on the opposite side of the parking lot. i saw a man walking near my car, and thought to myself, now i have someone to say 'good morning' to! (what can i say, the spirit of christmas affects even me in the wee hours of the morning!)
what happened next will never leave my mind. it has greatly impacted my life over the last five years, and i am sure it will continue to. glimpses of that morning come back to me; i am aware of things i never was; i will never be the same person.
that man, that seemingly innocent man across the way, approached me. he made me get in my car, wanting me to drive somewhere... but i didn't have my keys. come to find out, in her habitual cleaning the night before, sara had moved them. God only knows what would have happened had she not done so. after he realized that, he took my wallet, and throughout the course of our 15-minute encounter, threatened to kill me several times. he then took me back behind the apartment building, where the morning only got worse. thankfully, he never touched me... physically anyway.
in the midst of what was going on, my cell phone fell out of my purse, and he didn't see it. after he left- again, threatening to kill me- i saw it there on the ground, and called sara for help. we called 911, and the police came... and didn't believe my story. no, instead, they spent the rest of the morning telling me that it's criminal to falsely report a crime. it didn't make sense, they maintained, that i could be at such peace after such a horrific event had happened to me. what they didn't understand was that i was not alone that morning- the Prince of Peace was with me the entire time. i was thankful that what could have happened didn't, but more than anything, i had the peace of Christ in me.
i don't say this to imply that it is inappropriate to ever react to circumstances, that the peace of God protects us from emotion. it certainly does not- God created us to be emotional creatures. but what it does mean is that, in the midst of the trials, in the midst of the emotions, we have been promised that Christ sent us a Comforter- and that the Holy Spirit indwells those who belong to him. He has promised us peace, not as the world gives- as only He can give.
i really don't know how to put that in more practical words. i don't know what "having God's peace" means to you, how it makes you feel, how it changes you. i don't know how to say it without sounding cliche. that is certainly not my intention.
but what i do know what i felt that morning. i know that, sitting outside, freezing cold, wondering if i would ever see my family again- that somehow, in some indescribable way, i felt at peace.
so this christmas, i pray for you to feel that peace. like i said, it may look differently in your life. whether it's a deployment, a debilitating disease, a family crisis, a traumatic event- i know that Jesus offers his peace, which passes our understanding.
merry christmas.
when i woke up that morning, i was in a hurry. it was a sunday, and i had decided late the night before to stay over at my friend sara's house, instead of trying to brave it home in the typical michigan blizzard. being that it was a sunday, i had to leave her house quite early in the morning to make it home to get ready in time for church.
the alarm sounded, i grabbed my sweatshirt and headed for the door. i stopped to get my keys from the counter, but they were not there. i must have left them in the car, i thought.
i headed out the door to a still-dark december morning. the chill in the air was biting, and i headed quickly for my car on the opposite side of the parking lot. i saw a man walking near my car, and thought to myself, now i have someone to say 'good morning' to! (what can i say, the spirit of christmas affects even me in the wee hours of the morning!)
what happened next will never leave my mind. it has greatly impacted my life over the last five years, and i am sure it will continue to. glimpses of that morning come back to me; i am aware of things i never was; i will never be the same person.
that man, that seemingly innocent man across the way, approached me. he made me get in my car, wanting me to drive somewhere... but i didn't have my keys. come to find out, in her habitual cleaning the night before, sara had moved them. God only knows what would have happened had she not done so. after he realized that, he took my wallet, and throughout the course of our 15-minute encounter, threatened to kill me several times. he then took me back behind the apartment building, where the morning only got worse. thankfully, he never touched me... physically anyway.
in the midst of what was going on, my cell phone fell out of my purse, and he didn't see it. after he left- again, threatening to kill me- i saw it there on the ground, and called sara for help. we called 911, and the police came... and didn't believe my story. no, instead, they spent the rest of the morning telling me that it's criminal to falsely report a crime. it didn't make sense, they maintained, that i could be at such peace after such a horrific event had happened to me. what they didn't understand was that i was not alone that morning- the Prince of Peace was with me the entire time. i was thankful that what could have happened didn't, but more than anything, i had the peace of Christ in me.
i don't say this to imply that it is inappropriate to ever react to circumstances, that the peace of God protects us from emotion. it certainly does not- God created us to be emotional creatures. but what it does mean is that, in the midst of the trials, in the midst of the emotions, we have been promised that Christ sent us a Comforter- and that the Holy Spirit indwells those who belong to him. He has promised us peace, not as the world gives- as only He can give.
i really don't know how to put that in more practical words. i don't know what "having God's peace" means to you, how it makes you feel, how it changes you. i don't know how to say it without sounding cliche. that is certainly not my intention.
but what i do know what i felt that morning. i know that, sitting outside, freezing cold, wondering if i would ever see my family again- that somehow, in some indescribable way, i felt at peace.
so this christmas, i pray for you to feel that peace. like i said, it may look differently in your life. whether it's a deployment, a debilitating disease, a family crisis, a traumatic event- i know that Jesus offers his peace, which passes our understanding.
merry christmas.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
at the end
as i sit here at my desk, i feel a strange sense of deja-vu. this morning i gathered with the same teachers in the same room that i did 5 months ago as school was starting... i have the same fear of the unknown... i now stare at the same empty classroom.
except this time, things are different. this time, my desk is piled with gifts from students. (thank you so much to all of you students and parents who were so thoughtful... we appreciate it immensely...) a stack of graded exams sits next to me. students come in to say good-bye, not hello.
this is our last day at grace christian academy. jonathan was called up to train other chaplains who are getting ready to deploy. we close on our new house near ft. stewart tomorrow, then after a week up north for the holidays, we'll be packing up the uhaul and heading south... yet again...
i will miss the students, interacting with them. they all have so many unique qualities, and when they weren't making me pull my hair out, they made me smile with joy! :-)
so, this is it. the final day of this journey. it is bittersweet... every time one journey ends, another begins.
love you all...
except this time, things are different. this time, my desk is piled with gifts from students. (thank you so much to all of you students and parents who were so thoughtful... we appreciate it immensely...) a stack of graded exams sits next to me. students come in to say good-bye, not hello.
this is our last day at grace christian academy. jonathan was called up to train other chaplains who are getting ready to deploy. we close on our new house near ft. stewart tomorrow, then after a week up north for the holidays, we'll be packing up the uhaul and heading south... yet again...
i will miss the students, interacting with them. they all have so many unique qualities, and when they weren't making me pull my hair out, they made me smile with joy! :-)
so, this is it. the final day of this journey. it is bittersweet... every time one journey ends, another begins.
love you all...
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
joyeux noel and a view on normalcy
"you will only be able to see your husband for one evening. is that really worth it?"
"it is much longer than one evening, sir."
"how is that?"
"our minutes are longer than yours."
so said a movie jon and i watched last night (which i highly recommend, by the way). the movie is called joyeux noel (merry christmas) (you'll need to click "english version"), which is about the famous christmas eve fraternizations that took place in 1914 on the battlefields of WWI. in this movie, which was a compilation of many testimonies from the actual event, soldiers from france, scotland, and germany all declared a truce on christmas eve for the purpose of gathering together to celebrate the holiday. the whole thing started because a chaplain from scotland pulled out his bagpipes to lift the spirits of his men. the sound carried to the other camps, and soon, everyone was singing along. it gave me an even greater appreciation for the work of my husband.
back to the introductory line...
it is so true. jon and i have often talked about the differing definition of normalcy held by military families. moving every three years is normal. having to stop at the guarded gate upon entering your "city" is normal. spending time apart is normal. cherishing every moment together more than other couples could probably imagine is normal.
it might be different, but it's not bad. yeah, normal looks different to us... but that's ok. i'm not saying there aren't down-sides - there definitely are (ie- the aforementioned time apart)- but you know what? our minutes are longer. our time together is precious.
and i wouldn't trade that for anything.
"it is much longer than one evening, sir."
"how is that?"
"our minutes are longer than yours."
so said a movie jon and i watched last night (which i highly recommend, by the way). the movie is called joyeux noel (merry christmas) (you'll need to click "english version"), which is about the famous christmas eve fraternizations that took place in 1914 on the battlefields of WWI. in this movie, which was a compilation of many testimonies from the actual event, soldiers from france, scotland, and germany all declared a truce on christmas eve for the purpose of gathering together to celebrate the holiday. the whole thing started because a chaplain from scotland pulled out his bagpipes to lift the spirits of his men. the sound carried to the other camps, and soon, everyone was singing along. it gave me an even greater appreciation for the work of my husband.
back to the introductory line...
it is so true. jon and i have often talked about the differing definition of normalcy held by military families. moving every three years is normal. having to stop at the guarded gate upon entering your "city" is normal. spending time apart is normal. cherishing every moment together more than other couples could probably imagine is normal.
it might be different, but it's not bad. yeah, normal looks different to us... but that's ok. i'm not saying there aren't down-sides - there definitely are (ie- the aforementioned time apart)- but you know what? our minutes are longer. our time together is precious.
and i wouldn't trade that for anything.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Where's the Gravy?
This was written by my dad...
Where's the Gravy!?!
As I was pondering the great issues of life while sweeping up the crumbs from last night's youth meeting, I was overwhelmed by a sense of laughter and joy by the memories of my family at Thanksgiving. And the world instantly became a better place. You would have to know my family. My grandparents were immigrants. Granted, it was just from the mountains of Tennessee to the factories of the Midwest, but immigrants just the same. As with most depression era families in Appalachia, times were hard for my grandparents. They, like untold numbers of other families, lived off the land and squeezed every drop they could squeeze from anything that could be squeezed. And what comes out when you squeeze is called gravy. Yes, the very nectar of heaven, itself. Sauce to be savored. Syrup to be saved. Juice to be enjoyed. The foundational and single most important element of any and every good and descent meal - animal squeezings mixed with flour. Gravy. Just the sound of the word makes me hungry. I was an adult before I learned you could actually eat mashed potatoes without it. Who knew?
Our family Thanksgivings always included football, plenty of gossip, a good nap or two, usually an argument, and a celebration of God's goodness around a table filled with food. And the centerpiece was never a turkey, for most of my family doesn't even like turkey. But we always had a turkey, because we needed something out of which to squeeze gravy… usually in various colors, viscosities, and flavors. However, my favorite Thanksgiving- and Thanksgiving story- was different. As we sat around the festive table at my aunt's house; and after whoever was considered the most spiritual that particular year offered thanks to God; and after the mashed potatoes had made the rounds and were neatly piled on everyone's plate with the traditional divot-for-the-gravy expertly carved on top; and after several people asked for the gravy to be passed; and after someone impatiently asked "Who has the gravy?"; and after my aunt nervously, and with fear and inquisition in her tone, said, "Who made the gravy?"; and when eye met eye and neck hairs bristled; then and only then did we realize the world, as we knew it, had ended. And the gravy gods cried. There… was… no… gravy!
To this day, my dad won't admit that it happened. Says he doesn't remember it that way. Apparently, it's too painful. The animal drippings were wasted that year, and the cycle of life was broken. There weren't very many family Thanksgivings after that. Many of the cousins moved away. The grandparents - who loved us with all their hearts, by the way - were soon to pass into eternity. The younger generation began to marry and gravitate to their own family traditions. But we went out with a bang! Isn't that the way we are? We live in the most affluent society the world has ever seen. God has granted to those who believe an eternity with His Dear Son in Heaven. And yet, we seem to desire more. But what could be 'more' than God's gifts of blessing? Everything else is but gravy… the worthless juice of an animal whose goose is cooked.
Enjoy your Thanksgiving. Remember to be thankful for the gift of God's Son. And don't worry about the gravy.
Where's the Gravy!?!
As I was pondering the great issues of life while sweeping up the crumbs from last night's youth meeting, I was overwhelmed by a sense of laughter and joy by the memories of my family at Thanksgiving. And the world instantly became a better place. You would have to know my family. My grandparents were immigrants. Granted, it was just from the mountains of Tennessee to the factories of the Midwest, but immigrants just the same. As with most depression era families in Appalachia, times were hard for my grandparents. They, like untold numbers of other families, lived off the land and squeezed every drop they could squeeze from anything that could be squeezed. And what comes out when you squeeze is called gravy. Yes, the very nectar of heaven, itself. Sauce to be savored. Syrup to be saved. Juice to be enjoyed. The foundational and single most important element of any and every good and descent meal - animal squeezings mixed with flour. Gravy. Just the sound of the word makes me hungry. I was an adult before I learned you could actually eat mashed potatoes without it. Who knew?
Our family Thanksgivings always included football, plenty of gossip, a good nap or two, usually an argument, and a celebration of God's goodness around a table filled with food. And the centerpiece was never a turkey, for most of my family doesn't even like turkey. But we always had a turkey, because we needed something out of which to squeeze gravy… usually in various colors, viscosities, and flavors. However, my favorite Thanksgiving- and Thanksgiving story- was different. As we sat around the festive table at my aunt's house; and after whoever was considered the most spiritual that particular year offered thanks to God; and after the mashed potatoes had made the rounds and were neatly piled on everyone's plate with the traditional divot-for-the-gravy expertly carved on top; and after several people asked for the gravy to be passed; and after someone impatiently asked "Who has the gravy?"; and after my aunt nervously, and with fear and inquisition in her tone, said, "Who made the gravy?"; and when eye met eye and neck hairs bristled; then and only then did we realize the world, as we knew it, had ended. And the gravy gods cried. There… was… no… gravy!
To this day, my dad won't admit that it happened. Says he doesn't remember it that way. Apparently, it's too painful. The animal drippings were wasted that year, and the cycle of life was broken. There weren't very many family Thanksgivings after that. Many of the cousins moved away. The grandparents - who loved us with all their hearts, by the way - were soon to pass into eternity. The younger generation began to marry and gravitate to their own family traditions. But we went out with a bang! Isn't that the way we are? We live in the most affluent society the world has ever seen. God has granted to those who believe an eternity with His Dear Son in Heaven. And yet, we seem to desire more. But what could be 'more' than God's gifts of blessing? Everything else is but gravy… the worthless juice of an animal whose goose is cooked.
Enjoy your Thanksgiving. Remember to be thankful for the gift of God's Son. And don't worry about the gravy.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
guest speaker
we had a great day in geography today. there is a student here at grace whose parents are from nigeria- his mother came in and spoke to the class today. i found it quite intruiging. she talked about religion, food, tribes, and culture. she spoke of how the entire continent used to be pagan and animistic, worshiping carved images. she went on to tell us about how grateful the african christians are for the missionaries who first brought the gospel to their land. she talked about how, because of disease and climate, many of them got sick and some even died. "but," she said, "when you love God, you must continue the work of God." it was encouraging to hear such passion.
she then went on to speak of the community of believers, and how the christians in africa worship the same God the christians in america do. they may do things differently, she pointed out, but they are all the same within. this also relates to her view of the missionaries-that the commitment of those who first brought the gospel to africa over a century ago has opened doors for her belief in Christ now. our christian community not only transcends space, but also time... i wonder if david livingstone or robert moffat had any idea the impact they would make on the world...
she then went on to speak of the community of believers, and how the christians in africa worship the same God the christians in america do. they may do things differently, she pointed out, but they are all the same within. this also relates to her view of the missionaries-that the commitment of those who first brought the gospel to africa over a century ago has opened doors for her belief in Christ now. our christian community not only transcends space, but also time... i wonder if david livingstone or robert moffat had any idea the impact they would make on the world...
Monday, September 11, 2006
having a ball
i’m sitting at starbucks right now, sipping on my african red bush green tea. the bakery display case is advertising pumpkin cream cheese muffins… ah yes, the tastes of fall are approaching…
jonathan had drill this weekend, which included a military ball last night. it was lovely. the dinner was excellent, the company at our table was enjoyable, and meeting the men he served with- and their wives- was unforgettable. jonathan wore his dress blues- something he hasn’t had occasion to do since our wedding. If you want to see pics, go to jon's site- www.chaplainfisher.com- he has a couple posted there.
a friend of jon’s asked me last night how i’m enjoying georgia so far. you know, when people ask me that question it kind of takes me aback- it’s like i forget that i’ve moved to another state somehow. i look at my move as being one to be with jon, not one to be in another state. how do i like georgia? well, i like my new job. i like the house we live in and the friends we’ve made. i don’t like being so far from family and friends, i miss my old church, i freeze in the perpetual 60 degree air conditioning. but, i absolutely adore living with my husband. is that the state, or is it just the state of life? i don’t know. i always answer the question with “i love it!” if for no other reason than to make the inquirer feel proud to live in the south. i do have to admit, though, i have gotten used to chick-fil-a, brewsters, and a waffle house on every corner. i am starting to identify with “fayette county,” not just fayetteville (did i EVER say i was from “kent county” up north?) and i’m getting used to “y’all” being both plural AND singular.
don’t worry, though. i am sticking my ground on “pop” as opposed to “soda” (i actually had a high schooler ask me what a “pop machine” was after hearing me say it), and i have even held up my hand proudly to point and say “i lived here” a few times (okokok, so maybe that’s something i should actually STOP doing, but hey, i have to keep my heritage!)
ah. the last sips of my tea. it’s cool now, but i don’t mind. it’s a great way to wrap up a perfect morning.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
the winds of change
here i sit, behind a desk. i glance up to the front of the room. "Mrs. Sara Fisher" it reads. underneath that heading is a list of 5 classes and 2 study halls including every grade from 7-12. how did i get here???
monday afternoon we arrived at our new home. jonathan had done a lot- i mean A LOT- of work those 2 weeks he was here without me, getting it ready. everything about the house far exceeds my expectations- he did an excellent job cleaning and decorating. i will post pictures as soon as i find my cable! :)
tuesday morning he started work at the school... long story short, by wednesday morning i was agreeing to help fill in some holes in teaching. i have an excellent schedule with classes i am quite comfortable in, and i am blessed with a very helpful faculty. yet, the knowledge that in a few days- 5 to be exact- this very classroom will have the energy of dozens of teenagers... well... it's just a bit unexpected.
all in all, i'm excited. a new state and a new career, all in one week. i have to say though, so far i'm loving it!!
(oh, and for all you in michigan who are saying, "she's FINALLY warm enough down there!"- yeah... not so much... i have had goose bumps more down here in the frigid air conditioning than i have in MONTHS!)
monday afternoon we arrived at our new home. jonathan had done a lot- i mean A LOT- of work those 2 weeks he was here without me, getting it ready. everything about the house far exceeds my expectations- he did an excellent job cleaning and decorating. i will post pictures as soon as i find my cable! :)
tuesday morning he started work at the school... long story short, by wednesday morning i was agreeing to help fill in some holes in teaching. i have an excellent schedule with classes i am quite comfortable in, and i am blessed with a very helpful faculty. yet, the knowledge that in a few days- 5 to be exact- this very classroom will have the energy of dozens of teenagers... well... it's just a bit unexpected.
all in all, i'm excited. a new state and a new career, all in one week. i have to say though, so far i'm loving it!!
(oh, and for all you in michigan who are saying, "she's FINALLY warm enough down there!"- yeah... not so much... i have had goose bumps more down here in the frigid air conditioning than i have in MONTHS!)
Monday, April 24, 2006
full circle
i apologize for the delay in updating this site. much has happened...
right now, i am in hinesville, georgia, about a mile away from ft. stewart. it is amazing to me how much of a different connotation "fort stewart" has in my mind now than a year ago! last year it was the place at which i said good-bye to my husband of one month. yesterday, it afforded us a very sweet hello.
i have had the opportunity to meet several people over the past couple days who have been involved in jonathan's life. today i was at taco bell with a friend of jon's and his family (jon wasn't able to come)- a soldier brushed past me, and i heard another say to him, "watch out- you just ran into the preacher's wife!" they turned and smiled at me, and i returned it. later this afternoon, i was looking for some patches for jonathan's uniform at the px. i inquired the help of a soldier standing nearby, who just happened to be his commanding officer. when i introduced myself, he proceeded to share with me how great of a chaplain and a man jonathan is. on his way out of the store, he even said to me, "you are authorized to tell your husband i appreciate him." (only in the army, right? :) it filled me with great pride to hear such a dedicated officer talk of my husband in such a way.
for our entire marriage, jon has been an email in my inbox, a screenname in messenger, an address to which i send packages. now he is home. now we will live together. that thought wells up within me countless emotions...
so this is the end of my journey as a "wife of a deployed chaplain," as the top of my blog says. it has been a long, painful, yet sweet journey. thanks to all those who have walked it with me...
right now, i am in hinesville, georgia, about a mile away from ft. stewart. it is amazing to me how much of a different connotation "fort stewart" has in my mind now than a year ago! last year it was the place at which i said good-bye to my husband of one month. yesterday, it afforded us a very sweet hello.
i have had the opportunity to meet several people over the past couple days who have been involved in jonathan's life. today i was at taco bell with a friend of jon's and his family (jon wasn't able to come)- a soldier brushed past me, and i heard another say to him, "watch out- you just ran into the preacher's wife!" they turned and smiled at me, and i returned it. later this afternoon, i was looking for some patches for jonathan's uniform at the px. i inquired the help of a soldier standing nearby, who just happened to be his commanding officer. when i introduced myself, he proceeded to share with me how great of a chaplain and a man jonathan is. on his way out of the store, he even said to me, "you are authorized to tell your husband i appreciate him." (only in the army, right? :) it filled me with great pride to hear such a dedicated officer talk of my husband in such a way.
for our entire marriage, jon has been an email in my inbox, a screenname in messenger, an address to which i send packages. now he is home. now we will live together. that thought wells up within me countless emotions...
so this is the end of my journey as a "wife of a deployed chaplain," as the top of my blog says. it has been a long, painful, yet sweet journey. thanks to all those who have walked it with me...
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