Absence

The sky looks pissed
The wind talks back
My bones are shifting in my skin
And you my love are gone

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I’m enjoying the stormy weather this week. I don’t really want the sun to shine while I’m processing the news that our first deployment is on the horizon. Hubby found out last week he is alternate for an upcoming deployment. Hopefully he won’t have to go – but since he could be substituted at any time, we have to prepare as though he is. It won’t hurt to prepare either way: if he doesn’t go now he will for the next. His rotation is up.

Finding out about an impending deployment seems an awful lot like finding out you are going to have a perfectly healthy limb arbitrarily amputated. You know it’s coming and you know it’s going to hurt. You can already feel the pain. You go about your life and little everyday things remind you how much they will suck once that limb is gone. Forget about imagining special or difficult stuff. Thinking about those will just crush you.

I’ve been surprised by the force of my emotions on this one. I’m an army brat and I knew what I was getting into from the start. Or at least I thought I did. I’ve been a single mom. I’m totally capable of going it alone. Or at least I thought I was. Did you know high stress is a risk factor for mastitis? Me either until the high fever struck. That was fun. Particularly since hubby is still on nights and I pretty much had to go it alone while sick. A circumstance that prompted even more tears at the realization of the inherent foreshadowing.

So I’ve been processing and preparing my head. Lots of googling and a Pinterest board later and I feel like I might be capable of surviving this without too much bitterness or a nervous breakdown.

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:2-4 NASB)

     God has this all in hand. We will try not to let dread destroy our joy in this pre-deployment phase.

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And when it comes we will take one day at a time. Some days I’m sure I’ll be ok. And on others I won’t. Sometimes it’s ok to not be ok. And I’m ok with that.

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2 thoughts on “Absence

  1. Deanna says:

    We gotta talk…love you babe.

  2. Leah Burks says:

    And I’ll be here, loving you and my nephews all the while.

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