I arrived home Friday night after a long week of work, made some dinner, and perused the free movie channels we had this weekend. (You can bet I dvr'd just about every single one we haven't seen yet!) My husband texted me to see how my day was, and within ten minutes I found out I hadn't received a text from him the day before.
Their coming home date had been changed.
They weren't leaving until Sunday morning.
Two years ago, when my husband came home from his deployment, I went through a week of waiting. Their plane was delayed not one, not two, but three days because of weather back here in the States. Every twelve hours I got a phone call from the FRG leader saying they were stuck yet again, and they'd be home at this time or that time. It was rough, when all I wanted was for him to be home. And now, after a week... I was even more ready for him to just get back to our home, but once more he was delayed.
I'm not surprised really, and all my Army wife friends I'm sure you can relate: the Army is always changing things. Nothing is ever set in stone until very last minute and even then it can change. I'm one of those people that plan and hate any form of change. And yet... that's all I've been through this past year.
We're coming up on our first year anniversary, and this week it seems like there has been so much I have meditated on. I know I often write about enduring, and that's because it often seems like that's the only thing I'm doing. I feel delayed in life... not sure where I'm headed vocationally, not sure what my, our, calling is from the Lord, not sure if we should have even made the decision to move up here and leave the "army life."
Until Music Man left again.
I often find my alone times, whether it be drill weekends or small deployments, strong times of mediation. Mainly, I know it's because the Lord uses that time to grow me in Him, as he does for my husband. It's those times of absence when you realize just how much each other is needed in your life; just how much you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
And this week was no different.
To be candid, we have struggled so much financially these past six months... moving, job searching, transition into new jobs, obtaining new bills, dealing with transitional insurance coverage, emergency room visits, a dog to take care of, driving to work with sky-rocket gas prices. I'm not honest because I'm looking for pity or help, because again, help is something we have had to ask for time and again. I am honest because I am seeing how much our struggles are revealing the greater plan the Lord has for us.
Some people are meant to be rich in finances and some are meant to simply be provided for. I may dream of being a multi-million dollar best seller, but I am learning to be content whatever the circumstances (Philippians 4).
I struggle with financial anxiety... I think it's because I very much like to control and oversee things. And for some reason these past several months, I have had no control over our finances. And yet, I also land a job in a bank. Irony, for sure, God's plan: definitely.
He knew us before he formed us in our Mother's womb, and He never stops knowing us. Which means all the anxiety and worry I struggle with, He has already seen... and set me on the path of learning and healing.
When I take a moment to reflect on our first year of marriage, I am excited to see that we have persevered together, and how God has taught me so much through my husband. We have had more joyous moments then I ever thought possible, and often times those are when we have barely anything in our checkbook. I'm always amazed and that very first day after time apart. That first hug is a hug that feels like you have not seen each other for ages, even if it is only six days. It's a hug that says so many things: I've missed you, I love you, I'm sorry for fighting before you left, Thank you, I love you, I'm so glad you're back. It's a hug that I want to keep going.
I believe that when we keep going, when we learn to be thankful when we have nothing, in any sense, God will reward us with joy and He will give us peace.
Last night, even though he was tired, Music Man rode bikes to the downtown park with me to listen to the community band. We were one of very few young couples, and yet, our souls were not. I watched so many older couples enjoy the music and walk away that night holding hands.
It made my heart smile.
It made me joyful.
And when I looked at Music Man, he knew what I was seeing.
Years and years of hand holding.
Years and years of joy and peace no matter the circumstances.
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Seek peace. Choose Joy. Breath Hope. Live Faith.
