Part Two

Very shortly before we moved, we finally settled where we would be living. A first-time landlord was renting out a beautiful country home for a price we could just afford, and, man, the pictures were just beautiful. They even helped us move in and flew down from another state to sign the papers with us the very day after we arrived in Missouri, so we only had to spend two nights in an expensive hotel.

Fantastic. Beautiful house, tons of space, living in the country with plans to grow tons of veggies in the big garden, almost fully unpacked quicker than I thought possible. Marty’s work was going great, and they were promising him a promotion, and we even found a church to visit that seemed good. Yup, it was a good 2 weeks or so.

Then Marty ended up at the hospital. And I had a wreck. And I started resenting the stupid country home. Stupid house, with stupid gravel roads, and stupid ambulances and tow trucks that couldn’t ever find it, and stupid lack of cellphone and internet reception, and stupid everything. I felt unsafe, and I was worried about having an accident or emergency and being unable to get help. I was afraid to drive over 10 MPH, and my anxiety and depression went through the roof.

Mom, my hero, came to my rescue again. She stayed with me for a month at the beginning of Marty’s deployment when I was falling apart, and she stayed with me for three weeks here in Missouri when I was falling apart. She helped me a lot, and I got some support from my doctor, and I got back into counseling, and we attended church regularly at the church Marty and I had visited twice, but I was hardly praying, and I wasn’t really acting as if I trusted God.

Right after my mom had to leave, Marty and I spoke on the phone, and he revealed some things to me that were extremely painful. Things from his past that he had been advised never to tell me… but he decided he wanted to be open (and, in my opinion, he probably needed to get these things out in the open in order to heal). At first, the pain was excruciating, but that didn’t last as long as I’d expected. It faded and was replaced by an extremely heavy burden. It was so heavy, and I cried not because I was hurting so much as because I just didn’t know what in the world to do with this burden, this information. Where did life go from here, and what was I supposed to do every day? I felt kind of numb, kind of depressed, very burdened.

But God never abandoned me. Never, in everything I’ve gone through, and only a few of you really know everything that I’ve gone through. When I’m in true need, he always has made a way. My jobs and living situations, in so many more instances than the ones I’ve mentioned above… He always provided. Financially, always. When I had a wreck and was panicked? When we had to pay thousands of dollars for fixing the car and having a rental? When Marty was in the hospital? My mom was able to come, the money came just in time for our DITY move, and God put us in exactly the right place.

It took that kind of breaking that happened when Marty revealed those things to me to get to another level. Because for two days I carried that burden, and then it was Sunday. I planned to get up early and go to church, and I was going to talk to the Pastor’s wife that morning before service and try to get some help or perspective or prayer or something. When I woke up, though, I said screw it. Nevermind. I can’t do it. I’m tired, and I’m depressed, and I’m going back to sleep. I did. I went back to sleep. And then I woke up, and I had just enough time to go to church. I went.

(Sidenote: This church is different from any I’ve been to. They call themselves non-denominational and Holy Spirit led. They’re truly unique. And at this church, the worship service is basically in the dark, and many of the congregation (which is only about 15 people on a good day) go up front to this open area where they sometimes dance or lift hands or kneel or lay flat on their faces or wave flags around or clap or just whatever they’re led to do. It’s all completely unique. I spent my first two months there standing by my pew and singing, like I would have anywhere else, but I kept feeling like I should go up. Go up front. Go up front. I felt like I needed to just do it. Go up front. I told God he had to be patient with me because I’m shy. Just be patient, God. I’m not trying to fight you, just trying to work up the courage.)

Worship began, and I felt that tug I’d been feeling for weeks. Go up front. I thought about it, but no, I couldn’t. See, so-and-so is standing right there, and I’d have to squeeze past and disturb her, and, see, on the other side there’s so-and-so, and he’s taking up the whole space. I won’t fit. We got to the second to the last song, and all the so-and-sos left. Errr.. Okay, God. I guess… I guess this is it. I started to go, I stopped. I almost took a step, I stopped. I took a step, I went back. Finally, though, I forced myself to walk up to the front. I stood awkwardly to the side with my arms crossed across my tummy and closed my eyes and sang.

The female deacon of the church came up to me shortly afterward and placed her hand on the center of my chest, starting to pray for me. I kept singing. She gently unfolded my arms till they were palm-up at my sides. She touched my head, told me to let go, let go, let go, breathe deep. From behind me, someone was touching my back, and someone was holding my arms up until I was reaching up to heaven, and I started to shake. It was hot. I was worried maybe nothing would happen, and how would I have faith then? But I was shaking, and I was breathing deep and telling God I let go, I don’t want it, You take it! My knees were weak, and at least three people were praying around me as the last song started up.

They say you’re slain in the Spirit when they touch you and pray over you and you fall down. I wanted that, but I couldn’t figure out where the line was between resisting and simply letting my legs give out. Eventually, though, I was at the point where I felt like I was going to faint, and I just went ahead and sat down. The others left, though one put a light blanket over my head, but the deacon stayed and prayed. She held my face and prayed and told me to let go, and I continued to just try and do what she said. Breathe deep. Let go of everything.

When worship ended, I sat for a while. When I opened my eyes, I was kind of seeing double. I was still shaky, and I felt a bit intoxicated. But oh, I felt joy. I felt light. I felt… my burden was gone. As if God said, of course you don’t know what to do with this burden. It’s not yours to carry! The sermon afterward felt like it was just for me, and that afternoon I got even more encouragement from talking to the pastor. God has never been so real to me as he has been since that day…

And I could finally see how God had worked everything out just perfectly. Now, Marty’s going to be medically discharged from the Army, but it wasn’t God’s will for him to deny the orders to Missouri and get out the way he wanted to. No, we had to come here. We had to come here so he could have the care he needed when he ended up in the hospital. We had to come here so we could grow in the ways we needed to grow. We had to come to this house, because otherwise we would never have gone to this tiny church in the middle of nowhere. We needed to be here, at this time, and things needed to happen in this way, and even when it was too much to handle, it was all right (and alright!) because God had things in hand. He always does.

God is the One who will never let me down. The only One I can fully trust with absolutely no doubt or fear of being let down. Because of what He has done in my life (definitely not because of what I have done), I’ve finally come to a point of what I believe is complete trust in Him. I think it will be tested, and I think I will have to really put forth effort to live out that trust when I’m tempted to worry about things, but I honestly believe that I can say that I trust him completely. With everything. And I hope to learn to keep giving over things to Him as I realize that I’m holding onto the control or worrying about the outcome. Even when my anxiety and depression tells me things are not ok, I know deep down that they are.

And I’m not sure what else I can say. I can’t make anyone else trust Him. I can’t convince you that my experiences are not just coincidental and emotional but truly spiritual. But that’s my story. And I just want to brag on my Heavenly Father and how amazing he is.

Part One

I was working a part-time job which I liked, but I needed income from a full-time job. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I got a call from an office I had faxed a resume to probably six months prior, and they gave me a job with a higher hourly pay and a promise to move me up to full time after a short while. My mom, always full of faith, said it must be God. I said ok. I was excited about the prospect of having enough money to support myself and move out of my parents’ house before they moved out of state.

I believe it was the very day after I got hired that I went to Goodwill during my lunch-break with my coworker from my original job, and there I found a couch. I needed this couch. It was in great condition, and I could afford it, and I knew I could store it in my mom’s house until I moved out. I can’t remember how it worked out, but somehow or other, my parents went to look at the couch themselves. My mom told me I should pray about it. I said ok. Later that night, I was whining to her about wanting the couch and asking her to make the decision for me. Could I have it? Her answer: did you pray about it? Me: …no… I pouted and went back into my room, laid on the bed, and prayed for the first time in a long time.

I asked God… should I get the couch? What should I do? And I heard…nothing. Not that I should do nothing, but I heard no reply. I heard nothing at all. I was frustrated. I went to work the next day still frustrated and still not sure what to do. Then I got a phonecall from my mom saying that, if I liked, they could meet me at the store after work to get the couch. I agreed, and we went.

When we got to the store, however, the couch was sold. I was a little taken aback. Like… *blink blink* … ok God. No couch. That was a pretty direct answer.

I left feeling pretty good, and I started to pray more. I prayed about my new job, thanking God for it. I went to work at the new job. I hated it. Okay… but God gave it to me, right? So I prayed, and I told God it was really hard, and I didn’t know whether to quit or not, and what should I do? Should I keep it? No answer.

I went to work again, and in the middle of the day, I was fired. Umm… *blink blink* … ok, God. Thanks for that. At least I didn’t have to quit.

I stayed at my original job, and before long they bumped up my pay and my hours. Then, again, they bumped it up, and I was working full time! When it was time to move out of my parents’ house, God directed me to a really great first apartment. Based on my previous experiences, I was confident when I prayed about whether to take the apartment, even though I didn’t hear a supernatural voice saying “DO IT!” because I had begun to trust that while I was seeking His will, He wasn’t going to lead me into something contrary to it. Around this time I also finally started reading the Bible regularly again.

Fast forward some, and we get to my dear husband’s reappearance in my life. We had known each other since we were twelve, but we had never dated. When it came down to deciding to date, I took it very seriously. I had been praying for months that God would prepare me to be a good wife but also to help me be content in singleness, which was something I had never been content in. Finally, I felt content, and there came Marty, and there came a new feeling about him that was more than what I’d felt for him the previous 7 years… So I prayed about it some more. A lot more. For about 3 months straight. And I sought advice from people I trusted, godly people. I felt peace with the decision that I should go ahead. All signs pointed to yes. And so we dated, and so we married, and so we fast-forward again.

Since that point in my life, I was kind of stagnant in my spiritual life. Actually, dating and getting married hampered things because I no longer made time for prayer and the Bible. I knew I shouldn’t make my husband my “god,” but I just couldn’t seem to get my priorities straight. So I kind of stayed where I was. I had a sort of confidence that God wasn’t going to let us walk into something awful if we were seeking Him, and that was about it. Then, during Marty’s last deployment, he got orders for Fort Leonard Wood, and Marty had to extend his time in the Army in order to take the orders.

He was basically forced to stay in longer, when he had been planning to get out. And we were both like… Ummm… ok God. If you say so… Missouri, here we come.

Things have been a struggle, let me tell you. Deployment was a struggle, but I grew some… Of course, my good habits of daily Bible reading and prayer didn’t really carry over once Marty came home. Things were just too hectic. We had trips to take and packing to do and a move on the horizon, and Marty was really struggling with stuff at work. The time between his coming home and our moving was hard. Deciding to do a DITY move, having to pack up our whole house and load the moving truck and drive ourselves and our three animals to another state… Oh, and there was the struggle of trying to figure out where we could live. I tried to trust God, but it sure felt like I was doing everything. Where in the world was He, and where in the world were we going to live, and how was I supposed to have any peace when it’s weeks till the move and we still have no place to live! See, really, I wasn’t trusting God at all.

I grew up hearing that I should love my neighbor as I love myself, and, later, that I couldn’t truly love someone else unless I loved myself. These ideas threw me off kilter for a long time. Especially as I grew into teenage-hood and my depression hit me harder, I could not understand this concept because, frankly, I didn’t feel like I loved myself. In fact, sometimes, or maybe most of the time, I hated myself! But I loved others… didn’t I?

Agape?

Agape is a Greek word used frequently in the New Testament for “love.” It is a sacrificial, unconditional love. It is the love with which the Father loves us and with which we are to love Him in return. It is also the type of love we are to have for each other. And, in my opinion, it is a very misunderstood concept.

In the New Testament, there are three main Greek words which are all translated to our word love. One is a passionate, sexual, romantic love (eros). Another is a brotherly love; it describes the kind of feeling we have in a friendship with someone we really like (phileo). The last is the deepest kind of love, but it is not based on feelings but rather on doing good towards someone (agape).

I’ll say it again: agape is based on actions rather than feelings. This is why I, as a simple English-speaker, misunderstood it. Love usually means a feeling, not an action. And despite growing up with “Luv is a Verb” by DC Talk, I did not really grasp the concept of applying this action-based love to myself and others.

Love Thyself, Love Thy Neighbor

Depression aside (because I know sometimes in that pit it is hard to even take care of oneself), I think it’s fair to say that most people have this “agape love” toward themselves. We do good to ourselves. We give ourselves good things – food, things, shelter. We take care of our bodies and minds. We do what we can to relieve pain and keep out of harm’s way. We generally treat ourselves pretty well! This is what I believe is meant by loving others as we love ourselves.

As Christians, we’re called to treat everyone with this kind of unconditional love. We are to take care of each other, look after each other, love on each other. Not necessarily because we feel affectionate! Even when I think that I hate myself or hate a part of myself, I still tend to treat myself well. And even if we don’t like everyone that we come in contact with, we’re to do the same – treat them well. They are made in God’s image and loved by Him, and we are to do good to them, not harm.

Spousal Love

I questioned myself before I got married. I wasn’t sure whether I would really be capable of loving my husband after being told for so long that I could not love someone else unless I loved myself first. And did I really love myself? Sometimes I sure didn’t feel very pleased with who I was or how I behaved or looked. I think it would be more accurate to say that you can’t act lovingly towards your spouse if you don’t know how to act lovingly toward yourself. If you abuse yourself, you’re likely to abuse your spouse. But understanding unconditional love, or agape, means understanding how to be kind and loving in spite of what you may or may not feel.

And, of course, it’s often easy in marriage to treat your spouse with agape, since there’s usually eros and phileo to motivate you.

I hope I’ve explained my thoughts well enough to be understood!

Depression

Every time I come up against bloggers-block (ha ) it’s because there is something on my heart that I feel I can’t share, for whatever reason. I usually start blogging again when I realize that the best way past it is to blog about it, and afterwards I’m able to move on to other topics. So I’m going to try that now.

I tell myself, privately, that my struggle with depression will one day be a great testimony for the Lord. How he brought me through. Once I finally reach the other side. And, in the meantime, I tell myself, it must be secret. I have to push through on God’s strength, keep quiet, and one day I’ll be able to look back on these times and explain to others how God brought me through.

And you’re reading that, going, “Michy, that’s dumb. That’s not how it should work.” And I’d agree with you.

Why do I feel the need to keep my struggles secret? It’s not for God’s glory. It doesn’t make God appear any stronger or do anything to prove his power. It neither helps me nor does it help my friends. It’s pride. If I’m honest, the only reason for my secrecy is that I’m embarrassed. I’m embarrassed that I’m weak, that I struggle, that I have a problem that my friends don’t have, and I hide it to protect myself, pride-fully trying to appear unflawed.

The other option is, of course, to open up and let my loved ones in – to help, to listen, or even just to pray. I would have to trust God enough to be vulnerable, to humbly admit that I’m not Super Michy. Just Michy. And that definitely goes against the grain.

Some Truths

So here’s the truth. I cry more than … anyone. I cry more than anyone should, more than anyone else does, as far as I can tell. I get depressed, and miserable, and it makes me feel utterly alone. Because I know that there is no way anyone else can understand. I know that really, only God can truly be there with me – understand me – and I feel alone. I feel helpless to explain, and I usually don’t even bother.

In fact, I usually scoff at people who ask “What’s wrong?” I decide that they don’t have, or care to have, the next twelve hours free for me to really make myself understood. And it seems so meaningless to just say I’m sad. I’m depressed. I’m going through some stuff. I’m having a hard time. Those phrases don’t even BEGIN to cover it, and even if they did, someone would then ask me, “Why?” A million reasons! I can list a handful off the top of my head, but to you they will seem like nothing, and the truth is, they are nothing. Except that they are piled on top of a lifetime of other STUFF and they are viewed through my messed-up, depressed mind.

And the truth is I hate that I’m depressed. I see myself as weak and lazy when my depression interferes with my life, and I tend to feel like I need to protect myself from being seen that way by others. So act strong. Get mad, not sad. Crying is weakness. Smile. Pretend. Be there for others, but never make them be there for you. Because chances are they’ll fail, or even if they don’t, they won’t be ENOUGH.

Best not to try. And best not to be a burden, because if you are a burden you’re likely not to have ANY friends.

This is why I feel unknown: I don’t let anyone know me. I might as well tell God that He made me wrong. He shouldn’t have given me this flaw. It’s ugly; it’s meant to be hidden.

And as I try to hide, I lose something. I grow hard and harsh and lose my inner beauty and gentleness and… I can’t be genuine with people. And without that genuineness and openness, my relationships become shallow. I wonder if my impact on people, on the world… how different would it be if I were open? Vulnerable? Would people see God more clearly? Would they feel love more fully? Would my words and actions be more meaningful?

The truth is, I live with the chronic pain of depression. I struggle THROUGH it, constantly. And God helps me. He’s with me every moment, he gets me through each day. He’s the reason I don’t become self-destructive, the reason I can still love others, the reason I can still find joy (sometimes). I think my friends deserve to know that NOW. Because who knows if there ever will be an “other side” that I’ll reach, where it won’t hurt so much? If I keep waiting for that, I may never get to share my testimony.

Just some thoughts…

Deployment sucks. There’s no denying it, and, unfortunately, there’s no way to magically make it easier. It’s not so simple as one more person telling you to keep your chin up, as if, maybe after you hear it enough times something will click in your head and you’ll no longer feel down. Nope. Sorry! Not gonna happen.

I’m new to this, and I’m taking everyone else on their word and hoping that it will get better and easier. I hear the first month is the hardest. We’ll see! But in the meantime, I’ve found some comfort in some resources I found online. I’d like to share them in hopes that someone else might also enjoy them – whether you’re a spouse, parent, sibling, or friend of a deployed soldier! So, here we go, in chronological order…

Before He Leaves

1. If you are feeling a bit frazzled and trying to remember what needs to be covered before he leaves, here are a few tips from eHow.com: Finances, vehicles, holidays, and household maintenance – all important things to add to your pre-deployment to-do list. See the full article by clicking here.

2. I did not have to face the problem addressed in this article on ChristianMilitaryWives.com. However, I still found some really good advice in it, and would recommend it to you, especially if you find that your soldier is seeming more distant the closer deployment gets.

“Don’t let your sour, bitter thoughts get in the way of your relationship with Christ or your husband.  Don’t let pre-deployment jitters get you down! You are armed with something that non-Christians do not have.  You have God on your side, ‘if God be for us, who can be against us?’ Romans 8:31”
-Patti Katter

3. There are several good all-inclusive articles I found. They include advice for Pre-, During, and Post-Deployment. Twoofus.org focuses on Preparing Your Marriage for a Military Deployment with advice about things like patience, blame, and infidelity. Red Cross has an article on Deployment Tips that focuses mostly on homecoming, but it also has a really thorough checklist that will prove useful throughout the entire deployment.

I saved the best for last, though. As far as an overview of the whole process of deployment, I liked this article by Stacey the best. She touched on some things that I really was beginning to think I was alone in feeling. The truth is that, as she says, “just about any emotion you have during this time period is normal.” Reading this article really helped me remember I’m not alone, and, believe me, it’s good to have constant reminders of that fact.

“Depending on your husband’s unit, you could have months of notice before they deploy or as little as a few hours. Your first reaction could very well be shock, disbelief and a feeling of helplessness. You may have thoughts run through your head about flying off to another country and disappearing. Although this is common, it’s NOT recommended! They will find you and then not only will he be deployed, he will probably serve jail time as well and have pay and rank stripped from him.”
-Stacey – MarriedtotheArmy.com (Dealing With the Emotional Roller Coaster of Deployment)

While He’s Gone

1. I’ve already mentioned this article in my post SMW Syndrome. Check it out, if you missed it, or go straight over to Anita’s article about Super Military Wife Syndrome.

2. Your soldier deserves to come home to the real you, so take care of yourself while he’s gone. Exercise, journal, work on projects, set goals, et cetera! Read eHow’s article (this is a different article than that mentioned in the first section) for more thoughts on the subject. And, I would also recommend this Military Mama’s post called Lessons Deployment Has Taught Me. It’s okay to be sad! Finally, read quotes from other wives at ivillage.com that are, supposedly, the best 21 tips you can find!

“People are just going to say things in hopes it makes you feel better. Let them.”
-Lessons Deployment Has Taught Me

3. Meanwhile, aside from keeping your body and mind cared for, your soldier is off in a distant, probably harsh, land. He (or she) is separated, not only from his spouse, but also from all of his loved ones. He is probably sleeping on a cot most nights, in a room with little in it to speak of home. He needs care, too, and don’t forget it. So, tell him frequently how you feel about him and that he is in your thoughts and prayers. Thank him for his service; express your pride. Send letters!

4. Care packages are another great thing to do for deployed soldiers. Ask your soldier (or his wife) for a list of items he would like to receive. There are lots of websites, some of which are listed below, which will give suggestions on items you might choose to send. Here’s a compiled list:

• Foods they can’t get from the DFAC or PX
• Personal hygiene items
• Extra socks and underwear
• Photos
• Stationary
• Stamps
• Pictures or posters for walls, if they have any
• Travel-sized medicines and toiletries
• Moist towlettes/cleansing cloths
• Reading material
• Batteries
• Puzzles/other games he might enjoy
• Visit these websites for more info: How to Support…, How to Make…, How to Ship…, US Army Care…

DO NOT send any of the following:

• Melt-able Items (Chocolate, et cetera)
• Alcohol/Drugs
• Pork
• Pornography

Make sure you have your soldiers full, correct address before you mail anything! And, before you go off packing things into just any old box, check your local post office for FREE boxes. They are called flat-rate boxes, and you do not have to pay for them. Take as many as you want! They come in several sizes. No matter how much they weigh, they have a flat rate for shipping, and it’s a very good deal. You can also visit USPS.com and order 10 or 20 boxes, which they will deliver to your door for free! You will also need a customs form (2976-A) for each package, and you can get those for free at the post office or free from USPS.com. Additionally, everyone should check out THIS website which tells you how to get an entire Military Care Kit for free. It has everything you need all included.

Closing Thoughts

Once more, I want to link you to the following articles which include a few homecoming tips.

• Red Cross Tips
• Twoofus.org
• Married to the Army

Finally, there are a few bright-sides to deployment, as outlined at Milspouse.com. Head on over there to see what they are. And I would love it if you had suggestions on additions to that list. The more bright sides we can come up with, the better! My favorite from their list is how much easier cleaning is when he’s gone. Especially with no kids, yet, to dirty things up.

If you enjoyed this post, do me a favor:
Use the link buttons below to share it
on your social networking site of choice!
Thanks, friends!

This was on my brainstorming list of blog post ideas. Today, for some reason, it stood out to me. Maybe because it’s an area in my own life in which I’ve been trying to improve. What does my husband need of me, and what are my wifely responsibilities? I don’t think that wives are only around to serve their husbands, but I do believe God calls us to have a servant’s heart, whether or not one is a housewife.

Wives, Submit to Your Husbands

“Submitting to your husband doesn’t mean becoming his slave. It means recognizing his role and putting him first. After all, I believe this is the example Christ has set forth for us…”
–Melissa J. on Families.com

The biggest difference between a Christian marriage and a non-Christian marriage is whether or not the wife submits to her husband. God provides an umbrella of protection by putting the husband under himself, the wife under the husband, and the children under the wife. By living with that family structure in mind, I think that we will find ourselves living the happy, fulfilling lives God intends for us. But the wife-to-husband submission is very different from the child-to-parent submission. Notice in the Bible that children are told to obey, while wives are told to submit. (Ephesians 5-6)

1. Respecting

• The quote above touches on this, but I will re-iterate: I think that wives submit to their husbands through respect. After my husband so lovingly listens to my thoughts and suggestions, I should then strive to respectfully accept his decision as final. God has put that responsibility into my husband’s hands, and out of respect for that position, I defer to him. If a mistake is made, I should not criticize or ridicule him. I should continue treating him with the respect he deserves.
• I should not only respect his decisions, though. I also respect his goals and dreams, his space, his person. This includes holding back sometimes on snide and sarcastic remarks! (This is something Hubby and I are BOTH working on. We recognize that sometimes taking sarcasm too far makes one or the other of us start to feel unloved.)
• Avoiding nagging is, I think, a very big step in learning to respect your husband. Many women, including myself, have an almost uncontrollable urge to nag. (Only a slight exaggeration!) But when we nag our husbands, we end up feeling like their mothers, and they end up feeling like children. That is not respect, and, of course, we know this. It’s just hard to overcome sometimes! My friend recently suggested putting myself into the mindset of a personal secretary rather than a mom. It’s not a perfect analogy, but thinking this way helps me sometimes to remember that I should respectfully remind him of things and then trust his judgment about which to do and when to do them, rather than nagging him.
• Also like a secretary, I should take things into my own hands when possible. For instance, at my former job, I wouldn’t have asked my boss to do much of anything I could do myself. That’s not to say that wives should slave all week while husbands become couch potatoes, but I think you get the idea.

2. Praising

• I can no longer even count the number of sources that have told me about praising my husband. I hear it everywhere. Men respond positively to praise, and husbands respond very positively to praise from their wives in particular! It’s good to try not to criticize or nag, but it’s better to take it a step further and look for things your husband is doing that you can praise.
• Praise and support go hand in hand. As I praise Hubby’s accomplishments, I show appreciation for what he’s done, but I can also praise his efforts to let him know I support everything he’s trying to do, whether or not things go as planned.
• I try to put my admiration into words, so that my husband knows I see his hard work that sometimes seems unseen by everyone else. I want him to know that I notice how much hard work he puts into his job, even if he doesn’t feel he gets recognition for it at work.

3. Helping

“The Purpose of A Woman: God said, ‘I will make him a(n) ezer’ (Genesis 2:18).”
– Hem of His Garment Bible Study

• Many Christian wives work hard at doing things like cooking, housekeeping, parenting, and organizing in an effort to be a help-meet for their husbands, and I think that many non-Christians look at those women and think “servant” or, worse, “slave.” But that’s not it at all! Helping is not the same as serving, despite how it may appear from the outside. When God created Eve and said she was to be a helper, the Hebrew word used (ezer) is the same word as is found in the following verse:

“I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
- Psalm 121:1-2

• I can help my husband by keeping the house managed for him, so that he doesn’t have to. I can learn what his life goals are and help him to meet them. I can help by praying for him. I can help in little things, like doing a chore I know he’s dreading. I can help him relax using, among other things, this list. And I can also help him by encouraging him to be a spiritual leader.
• The help I give my husband is something God designed me for, and it should be thought of in the same way as God’s help for us. In other words, it’s the power and strength of God working through us so we can do what he designed us to do – help our husbands. It’s not good for man to be alone! In other words, we wives are needed. It’s good to be needed.

In the Army

One other thing I was thinking about is how being a Christian wife might look different for those of us in the Army. I will probably have even more thoughts on this after we’ve gone through a deployment together.

For those of you readers who may already have a greater understanding of this, let me ask you: How is your relationship with your husband affected by deployments and long periods of “independence” followed by times of getting back into the groove of marriage? How do you respect your husband when there is so much distance between the two of you? Do you find it difficult?

Two P’s

Above all, I think that the best way to learn how to be a Christian wife is through prayer and practice. I’ve been praying for God to help me learn to be the wife he wants me to be since about a year before Hubby and I started dating, and I’ve been practicing for about a year now. I have not arrived by any means; I still struggle, but I’m still trying. My husband and my God are kind enough to lovingly forgive my shortcomings. I’m so grateful for their patience with me.

I would encourage any and all of you to begin praying now if you never have before, whether you’re single or have been married for years. God will always answer prayers that are in line with his will for your life, so if you’re asking for him to help you become the Christian wife he wants for you to be, he will definitely help you!

(Note: My posts usually are not this long! Sorry!)

I wonder how many Christians really trust God. Depending on where I am when I think about this, I end up with different answers. I can be in one setting where I feel most Christians must find this easy, while in other settings it seems there are more people having trouble with it than mastering it. Trust.

It’s a hard concept, even when applied to family and close friends, but when applied to an invisible God, it becomes just that much harder. Even within churches, the amount of trust you find may vary constantly. It’s important for all Christians to work on building up their trust in God, but lately I’ve been thinking about how crucial it is for those of us who are also in or associated with the military.

My Lessons In Trust

The truth is that I strayed from God for several years during my teenage-hood, but even before that, I had never firmly placed my trust in God. Faith, yes. Trust, no. It was after I came back from what I call my time of wandering that God began teaching me to lean on him in ways I never had before. Here are two lessons combined together: the couch and the job.

In wanting, praying for, and seeking a clerical job, I put in resumes at almost all the doctors’ offices in my city, and within days I was hired at an office looking only for part-time summer help. I’ll take it! I did take it. But the pay was low, and they weren’t planning to keep me for long.

Two or three months later, I got a call from another office at which I’d applied, and they asked me (months later) whether I was still looking for a job. Telling God I gave him full credit for this amazing opportunity, I went to the interview and took the job. They started me as part time, so as not to interfere with my current job, and they paid me as much as my current job while promising to bump me up to full time and higher pay within a very short time frame. I thanked God profusely, maybe truly meaning my thanks for one of the first times in my life. This, I thought, was surely not coincidence. This was God providing for me! I knew it.

Excited about my new, high-paying job, I started thinking about the possibilities for moving out of my parents’ house. This was something on my mind constantly at that time. It was on my mind partially because I wanted to be independent but mostly because my parents were planning to move out of state as soon as their house sold, and if it sold while I was still unable to afford living alone, I would have to go with them. I ended up going with my co-worker and friend Kellie to Goodwill during a lunch break at my original clerical job, and while I was there I spotted the perfect couch. It was cheap, it was comfy, it didn’t smell like cigarettes, and I wanted it! I called my mom, and she agreed to meet me at the store after work to look at it and decide whether I could keep it at their house until I moved out.

Mom came, and we looked at the couch again. While she agreed that it was nice, she suggested that instead of buying it right away, with money I knew I would have in the future but did not have yet, I should go home and pray about it for a day. At home, I waited a few hours, then asked her again what she thought.

Had I prayed about it? No, Mom, I hadn’t prayed about it yet (said with a sigh). I went back to my room, laid on my bed, and asked God what to do. I hadn’t prayed – really prayed – in years, though I had begun going back to church not too far prior to all of this. Not only that, but it was the first time I remembered just asking God what to do without asking for the result I wanted.

Guess what happened.

He didn’t answer me. He didn’t speak into my head or give me a strong feeling of what he wanted. I got up from my prayer time just as confused and hopeful as before.

The next day I actually forgot all about the couch until my Mom called me at work. She asked whether I would like for my step dad and her to come with me after work to pick up the couch, and I said sure. When we got to Goodwill, though, the couch had already been sold. Normally this would have disappointed me, but for once I recognized it for what it was – God’s answer to my question. Should I get this couch? No? Okay, then.

First day on the job. I hated it.

High pace, high stress office with rude co-workers. I did not even meet the doctor I was working for, and got very little training before being left almost on my own. I was given no breaks throughout the day. I went home feeling very let down, and as I had a day or two off before I would be going back to that office, I began to wonder whether it would be okay to just quit. But no. I had told myself it was an opportunity from God. How could I simply quit and throw it away without giving it a real chance? I determined to stick with it and see what God had for me there, and so, on my second day, after sitting in the car for a few minutes dreading what I had to do, I took a deep breath and headed in to work.

I made it about half the day (just as rotten as the first) before I was called to the back to speak with my office manager and direct supervisor. They told me that I displayed a poor attitude and poor customer service, or something like that, and they said that I could go. Stunned, insulted, but far from disappointed, I took my check for the hours worked and went home. I didn’t understand what had happened aside from the fact that God had given me an opportunity, I had trusted him to show me his purpose in it, and then he took it away.

It was within the next week or two that my office manager at the original job told me that they liked me so much, they wanted me to stay beyond the summer. They upped my pay and hours, and they hired me as a permanent employee. I stayed at this job for two more years, until I married and moved away, and I loved it almost every day.

How Great He Is

I’m not saying I’ve arrived or that I never have trouble trusting. I still question God, and I still try to push for my desires whether or not they are in his plan. But I can say that over the course of the last three years, he has brought me to trust in him more than I ever have before. More than I’ve ever trusted another human being. Above all, I know that he intends only good for me and that all good things come from above, from his hand. Verses that were only nice words now have meaning to me.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”
-James 1:17 (NIV)

“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
-Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

“The steps of a man are established by the LORD, when he delights in his way…”
-Psalm 37:23 (ESV)

Staying Sane in the Military

More than ever before, more than during any other trial in my life, I have a need for this trust as I face day to day life in the military. While trying to make plans for our lives, for family time, for traveling, for where we live, I must constantly remember that God knows what he is doing.

When I got married, I didn’t know that Hubby’s deployment would be moved up, but God knew. Hubby and I didn’t know it would be so difficult to get into Warrant Officer school; there were problems we didn’t foresee, dumb things that are irritating and annoying because they’re ruining our plans. But all along, God knew these things would come up. He didn’t tell us they were coming, but he planned for them being there – they aren’t a surprise to him. We trust him, every day, to get us through, to show us the path we sometimes cannot see that will lead to our planned destination. We also trust him if he decides to say, “Hey, that destination isn’t exactly what I had planned. Keep following me, though, and I’ll take you some place better.”

It hurts me sometimes that I can’t pass on this same peaceful trust to others! Sometimes I have a hard time understanding (or rather remembering, since I, too, stood in that place), how people can doubt. Don’t they know God’s way is better than their way? Don’t they trust him to take care of them? I can’t force anyone to believe, but I can continue praying for them.

Please, do share your thoughts in the comments! Was there a period in your life that you’re aware of God bringing you to a better trust in him? Are you still waiting for him to teach you how? I was there, too. For a long time, I wanted to believe, but I just didn’t, not quite.

Sorry for the crazy long post!!!