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.

A little story for you all…

I hope to explain both why I’ve been scarce here and what has been going on in my walk with God with this story. However, in focusing on these goals, I won’t be telling absolutely everything that has been happening in my life. I’ll be wordy enough without trying to be that thorough, I’m sure.

Some Background

Trusting God… How to do it? How to be sure? I’ve struggled with this for a long time. I’ll go back to the beginning. Apparently, I was “saved” at least twice around the age of three. The one I always remembered was a race on the monkey bars and “praying the prayer” before my friend, then dropping to the ground. I won and I got saved! Good for me! I leaned on this through my childhood, going to Sunday School and such and never thinking much more of it. Church was a way of life in my family. Hearing Bible stories and praying before bed was normal.

As a teenager, though, I started wondering whether I was really saved and really going to heaven. Maybe I hadn’t understood what I was doing when I was three. In fact, how could I have? So, I reconfirmed my salvation and recommitted myself to God, and later I got baptized as well. I was sure. For a while.

When depression started creeping in and looming over my whole life, I started to question things again. I begged God for help, and none came! I reasoned with myself (and God) by saying that I wasn’t asking Him to take away the pain, just to help me to bear it, but he didn’t! Nope, I was all alone and miserable, and over time as I cried and cried at church, at home, out walking around in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep… I began to think about whether God really existed at all.

I knew the kind of God I believed in, and I knew that if there was a God, that He would be that kind. You know: perfect, holy, loving, forgiving, etc. If that was the kind of God that must exist, if there was one at all, then surely He wouldn’t ignore my pleas. If I wasn’t getting answers to my prayers, it must be because God didn’t exist. So, I decided I was agnostic. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that there was no God, but I said to myself that I wasn’t sure whether or not there was. I quit going to church and pretty much quit caring about any of my morals.

Through a series of circumstances during what I call my “Wandering Years” (which I’ve written all about but have only shown to my mom, my husband, and my former therapist), God brought me back to Him. Something that was key in my beginning to accept that, yes, God is real and does exist, was reading the books by Lee Strobel: The Case for Christ, The Case for a Creator, and The Case for Faith. If you’re struggling with questions about God’s existence, I’d highly recommend those books (as well as Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, which I read more recently). But like I was saying, I decided to believe in God. I had enough evidence.

Later, eventually, I started going to church again. And then the real fun started because I began to pray again. I remember the first REAL time I prayed in my adult life, and that’s where this story about trust really starts.

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!

We all face trials, right? Some of us climb together, facing similar problems, and draw comfort from the company. Others climb alone. But even alone, you know that as you climb your mountain, your friends are climbing their own. The process is similar for each climb.

Different Mountains, Similar Climb

“When you’re actually climbing the mountain, you have to get to it first. Upon arriving at the base of the mountain, you have to know what you’re doing before you start out. Always be safe with each step you take.”
-MountainClimbingBlog.com

“It is critical to have a sure footing before going to another level, else we slip and slide back several levels. A bad fall can end with serious wounds that take a long time to heal and seriously delay the journey. There is a need to stay at each plateau long enough to learn what God is teaching us. Moving too quickly can be dangerous.”
-Robin @ HeartofWisdom.com

A Step at a Time

You’ve already come to terms with your mountain. You know its name and approximate size. You know God is with you on the climb. But you still have to actually climb it.

Deployment is the name of mine. It’s going to be a long climb. But I know that God has been preparing me for this time in my life, and he hasn’t brought me here without giving me what I need to make it through – or to the top, as it were. What you and I must do is face the mountain and climb, one step at a time.

For me, one step at a time means facing each day with prayer for strength. It means pushing forward in my goals rather than wasting my time. It means making a little more progress, moment by moment. Sometimes, just doing my chores is a mountain for me, and I have to take one step by picking up a shirt, another step by folding it, another by putting it away, another by starting again with the next item. Bite-sized pieces.

I’m not the first to say any of this, but I need to write it. I need to share it. Do with it what you will.

Dread.

All of my teenage and adult life has been focused on that one word. Dread.

How did I learn that word? How did I come to the conclusion that it was an accurate description of my feelings?

What comes to mind is an episode of a TV show I used to watch (I can’t remember what show this was – Maybe Full House?) where a kid hears her parents talk about being nervous – how they would certainly be nervous before doing something that she was about to do, and all of the sudden the kid develops stage fright. Really convinced that she is now feeling those things that her parents were feeling, she tries to back out of a performance, and the parents don’t realize what is happening until she repeats their words: “I’m nervous.” They only realized then that they had not only taught her a new vocabulary word, but they had also taught her to fear something she had no real need to fear.

I wonder if that’s what happened to me. Did I hear people talk about dreading work and then decide that I did, too?

When it Happens

I’ve felt dread about all kinds of situations in my life, but usually they fall into one of two categories:

1. Responsibilities – Things I have to do cause me to feel dread. Sometimes, when I think about it, I can laugh at myself a little because I know that if it weren’t something I had to do, I might actually enjoy it. But, sadly, knowing that doesn’t always help. I still feel the dread that I’ve learned to associate with responsibilities.

2. The Unexpected – I also feel dread when facing new and unexpected situations. This is probably related to my reluctance to face change. I like what I know, what is tried and true, and I dread entering situations where I might have to face something I haven’t faced before.

These are my mountains. Deployment, for instance, falls partially under both categories. Doing dishes falls under responsibilities. Going alone to a party falls under unexpected. Everything, it seems, is related to one or the other, or both.

Your mountains may have different shapes or may be made of a different substance, but these are mine.

Before Climbing

I have to do this. I know I have to do this. I need to, and I’m expected to do this. If I don’t do this, bad things will happen. I don’t want to do this, but I have to…

Thus cycle my thoughts.

Before I can climb any mountains in my life, I have to work past the dread. This comes before breaking a task down into manageable, bite-sized pieces and before taking any first baby steps. Because, no matter how small I tell myself the steps are, dreading them can still keep me from taking the first step. So, how do we do it?

One way to work past dread is by blocking it out. This is the method I’ve used most frequently, though I’m not necessarily proud of it. I try to think on anything other than the task at hand, and by so doing, trick myself into doing what I know I must. I can do it with loud music, with talking to friends, and with generally keeping busy.

The second method is preferable and probably more healthy than the first. Prayer. I so often underestimate the power of prayer. I have to continually remind myself that praying is not what it sometimes feels like. It is not just talking to myself or to the ceiling or sky. It’s not just something that makes me feel better, either.

• Prayer is speaking with my God, who is actually the only one who has the ability to help me. He is all-powerful!
• Prayer is drawing succor from the Holy Spirit, who was given to me by God to be my Comfortor when I was saved.
• Prayer is admitting my insufficiencies and relying my Heavenly Father.
• Prayer is accepting that my Lord is in control, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
• Prayer is taking the focus off of myself and remembering to praise the Maker.

I want to encourage you to do what I also try to do: Face your mountains prayerfully. Manage your dread by facing it with prayer rather than blocking or avoiding it. Use prayer to prepare yourself for your first step!

What things do you dread? What do your mountains look like? What causes mole-hills to become mountains for you? How do you prepare to climb them?

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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.

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