I'm Perfect.

NOT!

Yeah, I just totally went 1990's on ya! :)

But isn't this what we're all striving for?
Perfection?
Perfect body.
Perfect mother.
Perfect wife.
Perfect Christian.

That's fake.
No one is perfect.
It's superficial.
You're not seeing the real person.
The scars.
The warts.
The wrinkles.
The past.
The debt.
The emotions.
The sickness.
The addictions.
The home life.
The abuse.
The compromising.
The "what it took to get where they are".
The junk.

You don't see that. Because if you did, you wouldn't compare yourself to someone else. You wouldn't dream of what it's like to be in their shoes.
You wouldn't want their junk.
You have your own.

Ruth: yeah, she had it great, married to a rich man, great-grandmother of King David. Oh, wait--didn't her first husband die? Didn't she have to pick up scraps off the ground to survive? Is she the one that moved to a foreign country that considered her an outcast with her mother-in-law? Yeah. That's her.

Michel: a princess, born to a king, that later became a queen. She was the daughter of the chosen one of God and the wife of the man after God's own heart. Sounds pretty good, huh? Not really. She was consumed with jealousy and she was barren.

Esther: also married to a king and she was beautiful! That's how she won over her husband. But, wait--the fate of her entire nation was on her shoulders. She couldn't even speak freely to her husband without fearing death!

Rahab: saved when the walls of Jericho came down. Jesus himself is one of her direct descendants!  But when you read her name, you probably wondered why I didn't list her as "the harlot". The hooker. The woman that sold her body and NEVER, to this day, has anyone forgotten about it.

Mary: pregnant with the MESSIAH!!! How awesome would that be? Pregnant, she had to move to another country. NOT another state--country! She had her baby in a barn. She watched her son die for you---for you, to act the way you act and to live the way you live.

That mom you spy at the PTA meeting: yeah, you know her: beautiful, tan, brand new clothes on, skinny (even though her baby is still in a rear facing car seat), the one that has the beautiful family and perfect life. Her. The bulimic one. The one emotionally abused by her husband. Yep, wish I was her! Not!

What about the other mom you see? The one with the business suit on, nails done, perfect hair, one boy, one girl, luxury automobile, husband that worships the ground she walks on---depressed. She has to take a pill to get out of bed.

I have one better than that: the one that you see that seriously does have it all together--the one that is ON FIRE FOR GOD!!! And you know she is because she emanates it with every fiber of her being! She praises God for everything---even when no one is looking! She is unashamedly the epitome of what a real Christian is. She was molested her entire childhood. Still want to be her?

Not everyone's life is bad. This sounds like a chastisement, when I sincerely do not mean it that way. I mean it as a "things are not always what they seem" type deal.

Stop.
Stop trying to be someone else.
Stop it.
You are you.
Be you.
Stop being fake.
Stop pretending.
If you are constantly comparing yourself to those around you--then you don't know who you are.
Find your identity.
Start with Him.

I read this quote the other day: "Comparison is the thief of joy" - Theodore Roosevelt.
It really is.

Emotionally Something...

This post should be titled: "The Day After He Leaves..."
The last time my husband left, I found myself crying in a nice ladies office at the car dealership. 

Why? 

They had not put an air filter back onto my car correctly after an oil change, causing it to overheat five minutes after I had left. And I felt like this happened strictly because I had nothing else better to deal with! (That was in sarcastic font:) 

I walked back into the dealership, told them in my nice voice that they had screwed my car up, walked upstairs to a nice ladies office, and proceeded to have a minor breakdown. 

Yep, tears and all.  

Full blown, snot pouring, cry voice, ugly face...

Crying.

This tends to happen to me at least once, every deployment. 

The time before that: my girl accidentally spilled water on the keyboard of my new computer. No damage was done, still I cried. 

The time before that: my roof sprung a leak. Again, simple fix, but still I cried. 

The time before that: the septic backed up. GROSS! 

There's more, but you get it. 

The point: the enemy LOVES to strike us while we're down.
Everything falling apart the day after our husband's leave, is not an accident. 

Our husband's leave. 

Things happen, that he would typically handle.
How do you handle it emotionally?
Physically, we handle many things alone.
Why?
Because what choice do we have?
Emotionally, though?
The correct answer: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me..."
Do we honestly believe that though?
Do we walk in that faith?
I just admitted, that sometimes I don't.
I'm weak.
I'm emotionally susceptible--especially when he leaves!
And to be perfectly honest, I don't want to handle any of it alone!
I'm a married woman!
I'm half of a whole!
I'm mom, he's dad!
WHY ME?
This is NOT the picture of marriage that I have had instilled into me, my whole life.

Is this fake picture of marriage what makes ours so hard? 

Because we can't meet that expectation? 

That's another lie of the enemy. 

Remember that. 

And grasp this:
This is your path. This is your lot in life. He knew this is where you would be before the foundation of time.
Right here, right now.
In the middle of a deployment...
In the middle of a TDY...
In the middle of a valley...
In the middle of financial struggle...
In the middle of stress and anxiety...
In the middle of a peak...
He knows.
He's in control.
Seriously.
He has a plan for you.
He knows you.
He knit you in your mother's womb.
He knew you would be a military wife.
It is NOT more than you can handle.
He's in control.

Military wife reality: we are apart at times, but we are never alone.
Remember that too.
Even when you are alone, you're not. He's there with you.
Seek Him and I promise (actually He promises) that you will find Him (Jeremiah 29:13).

Facebook

This is crazy hard for me to figure out, but apparently, somehow, I should be able to link both this blog and the facebook page/link below.
Either way, I have created a facebook page to post new updates to the blog.
Learning never ends!!! :)

Please copy and paste: (or just search for "God Assigned Military Wife")
http://www.facebook.com/pages/God-Assigned-Military-Wife/125038604307278

The Game

My husband and I play a game every time he leaves.
It's a "no name" game.
Basically, we hide notes/letters all over the place for the other to find while we are apart.
I started this game about ten years ago when he left for a TDY trip. I taped a little note that said, "I love you and I'm thinking of you" to the back of his id card.
The next time, I pinned a note to the inside of his pants pocket.

He began as well.
I found the first one under my pillow: "I wish I were asleep beside you".
I found another one under the shampoo bottle: "I love the way your hair smells".
Another one wrapped up in the cord of my hair dryer...you get the point:)

These notes of love mean the WORLD to me!
I look forward to them every time.
That's one of my silver linings to a deployment.
They brighten my day and my mood!

I love the notes, but I really love that I'm worth the time to him.
He stops what he's doing.
He hand writes something sweet and unexpected.
He places them throughout the house strategically, so that I won't find them all at once.

My husband.

God is like that.
He blesses us daily.
Strategically.

Look around.
The flowers bloom in the Spring.
Summer brings the rain, the warmth.
Earth is blanketed in pure white snow in the Winter.
The leaves change colors right before your eyes in Autumn.
There is glory everywhere for our eyes to behold.

God takes a second to let us know He's here.
That person at the checkout that lets you go before them.
The smile from across the room.
The perfect timing of a song on the radio.
The phone ringing.
Friends.
A familiar scent.
A pleasant memory.
The clouds billowing in across the sky.
The sunrise.
The sunset.
A newborn baby.

Look around.
He's here.

Desperation

4,380 days. 

That's twelve years. 

Twelve years could quickly pass, or it could slowly creep by, especially if you had some type of medical condition. 

Imagine waking up every morning, sick. 

You go to doctors, but they have no cure. 

You spend all of your money trying to buy a cure that no one has. 

You lose everything you have, to include your dignity. 

Shame escapes you as you look for a cure, a temporary fix, anything. 

You want a day when people do not look at you with sympathy in their eyes. 

You just want one good day.

You remember life before you were sick. 

You remember how you took that care free life for granted. 

Will you ever get it back? 

Society looks at you and cringes. 

They can see your sickness on you. 

You begin to become your sickness. 

Everyday, it is still there and everyday, you anticipate it. 

Will I still be sick in the morning? 

How sick? 

Will it be noticeable? 

Can I go unnoticed, today? 

Or will I be pointed out? 

Who will help me today? 

Anyone? 

Who will have pity on my broken soul? 

I don't want pity. 

I want to be healed. 

Want turns to desperation. 

Desperation turns to intentions. 

You would think: "If I could just touch Him. 

He would heal me. 

But what will people say? 

Will they cast me away? 

I am sick. 

Not dead. 

I need something. 

Anything. 

I'm going for it. 

Maybe not. 

4,380 days.

How much longer will this last? 

People will think I'm crazy. 

Who cares. 

I've got nothing to lose.

He will heal me, just like He's healed others".

You will do what it takes to get better. 

Your options have run out. 

You would fight a crowd. 

Let them stare. 

You would face humiliation. 

You would overcome. 

You would grab on to the hem of His garment. 

And not let go. 

The day he leaves...

Picture this:
A family of four is driving down the road. The mom and dad in the front seat are holding hands. The mom lays her head over on her husband's shoulder. The boy is in the back seat playing a video game and the girl is holding a Barbie in each hand, pretending.
They know where they are going, but no one talks about it. There is nervous banter between the parents, as neither of them want to upset the kids that are now old enough to understand the situation. And neither of them want to let go of one another, so their knuckles are white from gripping hands. This particular drive usually takes forever to end, but today, the drive is not long enough.
They arrive.
They do not move. Not yet.
The parents, they hold onto each other, embraced.
Tears are in their eyes.
Mom's mantra: "Don't think it. Don't think it. Don't think it. Trust in Him".
This is the hard part.
Dad has to go.
Mom wonders "will this be the last time we see him?---Don't think it! Trust in Him".
Dad tears himself away from mom, embraces kids.
Boy, that is almost a man, tries to choke back tears, but still they come.
Dad to boy: "Take care of your mom and sister".
Girl, she cries, not wanting to let go.
Dad to girl: "Be a sweet girl".
Mom's throat is hurting from holding back as many tears as possible.
Dad to Mom: "I love you. I love you. I love you."
Mom to Dad: "Be safe. I'll be praying for you. I love you".
Dad, "Let us pray".
Mom thinks, "no praying, that means the end of our time together is here".
Amen.
More hugs.
More kisses.
More goodbyes.
Dad throws bag over his shoulder.
This time, he has to walk away.
Mom: Don't think it! Trust in Him!
Kids: wailing.
Dad turns around one last time.
He smiles, as best he can.
He waves.
Mom takes mental picture.
Family watches until Dad can't be seen anymore.
He's gone.
Mom: "Let's go home babies".
Babies cry.
Mom prays.
Boy prays.
Girl prays.

Trust in Him.

What does your bad day look like? Here's mine.

My daughter has asthma.
I hate asthma. It induces a lot of sleepless nights at my house. The one good thing about when her asthma is acting up: lots of cuddle time:) Anyway, one Friday night, she was having back-to-back asthma attacks, which kept us up to the wee hours of the morning. Coincidentally, my son had a soccer game at NINE the next morning (which should be against the law:). So, we are obviously going to be running late. Wait: have I mentioned yet that my husband was deployed??? Yes. Go figure...
I rush through our morning and get the kids in the car at 8:30, which is a good time, since the soccer fields are about 20 minutes away. I crank the car and immediately hear a long beeping noise. Ugh, this noise lets me know that I am almost out of gas. OMGoodness! Luckily there is a gas station right up the road. At this station, gas was a few cents cheaper than the rest at $3.87. I pull into the gas station with the sign that said: unleaded, $3.87. I swipe my card and pump my gas, grab my receipt and start pulling away, but wait, something doesn't look right on my receipt. Instead of being charged $3.87, I was charged $3.90. I check the sign again: $3.87.
This enrages me. I am a stay-at-home-mom on a budget. False advertising is illegal. I go in and approach the clerk with my nice voice (because "honey catches more flies"--a lesson my husband taught me:), only to be told that she can't help it the sign is broken. I reply that the sign should obviously be turned off (it's electric), if that's the case. Needless to say, I was refunded the change from a very irate employee. It wasn't that I needed the change--it was the principle of the matter!
By now, I have ten minutes to get to the soccer field that is 20 minutes away. I inevitably hit every red light. I get behind someone that can tell I'm in a hurry and then decides to play a game of "not letting me pass" while looking in the mirror laughing.
So, there I am, driving down the road behind a moron.
My heart is POUNDING by the anger that I feel.
I am mad at the asthma that kept me up all night.
I am mad that I had to pump gas and deal with a rude clerk.
I am mad that I am driving behind an idiot.
I am mad that I am dealing with all of this stress with no relief.
I am mad that my husband is not home.
I am mad at my husband.
I am mad that I have no family around to help me.
Tears are in my eyes.
I want to scream.
Have you ever experienced this kind of anger?
Surely, I am not alone.
That is actually not the bad part of this day. Oh, yes, it does get worse!
In the meantime of all this, the day before, I had been offered a job in a town that is the half-way point between my house now and my hometown. Obviously, I would not be taking it, but on this day, the thought crossed my mind.
I could take the job, move closer to my extended family, and see my husband on the weekends when he was off. Why am I in an unfamiliar town away from home anyway? It wouldn't hurt my marriage to move away from my husband. Heck, I could probably see him just as much if I moved...YEAH, RIGHT!!!
Do you see how the enemy snuck right on in and attacked me while I was down???
Yes, he did---and I was going for it!!!
I was mad!!!
What do you do in these situations?
Do you call all of your friends and rally the troops?
In all honesty, that is exactly what I did. I rallied the troops (which is NOT okay). Well, one friend and one family member. I was on a rant. They listened. They agreed with some of the things I said and disagreed with others, but mainly they were on my side. But then a curious thing happened: My husband made a long distance call to me. As soon as I heard his voice, tension melted away. I cried. I told him about my horrible day. I confessed my thoughts. His thoughts on the subject: no, I don't want you to move and I'm sorry I'm not there and let's pray about this.
Man, am I thankful for a husband that prays!!!

I am also very thankful for God's perfect timing! His time is NOT our time. Life is seasonal. Remember that when you are overwhelmed with a toddler or a deployment. Neither of those lasts. Pretty soon you'll be looking at a teenage child and retirement will be here faster than you know. This day in my life was rough, but I took two things from it:
1. Emotions happen, cry out to Jesus.
2. Trust in the Lord.

Oh, and the moron that I was behind: while he did enrage me, that is EXACTLY where I was supposed to be. At the time, I thought he was the spawn of satan, but God could have placed him there to protect me from my hurried driving---He makes ALL things work together for the good of those that love Him in Christ Jesus!!!