Lead Me To Calvary

Today during church service, we sang the hymn "Lead Me to Calvary." As we sang the last verse, thoughts began whirling around:

"May I be willing, Lord, to bear

Daily my cross for Thee;

Even Thy cup of grief to share,

Thou hast borne all for me."

I don't know, and I would be unwilling to state, that Drew's deployment is my cross to bear or a share of Christ's grief. It is absolutely possible that our situation is specifically God-given, but it is also completely possible that this deployment is a natural consequence of our decisions and actions (ie. Drew choosing a career in the Army). Whether or not the deployment was specifically a part of God's bigger plan, I am certain He can and is using it for His good. I feel confident it will be used to teach us, stretch us and, hopefully, further mold us to be more like Him. 

No matter what though, this verse reminded me of something more. "May I be willing, Lord, to bear daily my cross  for Thee." You see, it seems that often we are willing to identify areas, experiences, events in our lives that are our "cross to bear" or our "thorn in the flesh," but there's more to it than just bearing our burdens or sorrow. 

"Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but  whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?" Matthew 16:24-26

"Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me—to keep me from exalting myself! Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10

Bearing well under the toils of this life is commendable, but bearing them for Christ or for His sake adds a whole new dimension. Who's glory do I seek throughout this time? Am I seeking praise for my own response and actions? Am I seeking praise for Drew's sacrifice? Or am I seeking to continually point all praise, honor and glory back to God, by whom and through whom we have made it thus far? What more should I be doing? The chorus seems to provide a wonderful starting point. 

"Lest I forget Gethsemane,

Lest I forget Thine agony,

Lest I forget Thy love for me,

Lead me to Calvary."

Lord,

May I never forget all the grief, pain and separation You experienced on my behalf, on behalf of my friends and family and for all of mankind. May this time be a time of growth and refining and Lord, I pray that through it all, I will point all the glory to You, for it is through You alone that we will come through.

Just Ask

My name is Danielle and I have a hard time asking for help.

Five years ago, Drew was away for BOLC II; I was struggling with severe morning sickness during my first pregnancy and had the sole responsibility of overseeing our first military move. One day at work, I was talking with a good friend about some of the things on my plate, and he stopped me and told me that he and his wife and family would be more than willing to help. In my usual way, I quickly agreed, but something led my friend to pursue it more, pointing out to me that even if I knew they would help, I would never ask for the help and I should. He reminded me that God had placed each of us in the midst of a family of believers to encourage, correct, teach and support one another, and part of that support was helping each other in difficult or challenging times. He pointed out that it was wrong for me to refuse or not acknowledge that aspect of God's providence.

That was the first time I had to directly face and admit to myself that I do have a hard time asking others for help. Sadly, the lesson didn't stick as well as it should have. I've continued to struggle with asking people for help. Most likely, there is an underlying issue related to vulnerability and pride, but in my head I don't ask because whenever I consider asking someone for help, I usually hear one of three "buts":

(1) .....but I don't want to be an imposition/ I don't want to take away from their family time.
(2) ..... but I don't want them to think I am taking advantage of the relationship we do have.
(3)...... but it's my responsibility.

Every now and then, there will be a different reason, but always, always, always there is some reason, some excuse, for why I shouldn't ask. And more often than not, I don't ask anyone for help.

Drew's deployment has been a time for learning to ignore and let go of those excuses. There are some times when two adults are needed and some times when I just need help- even with a matter that seems trivial. So far, each time there have been willing hands at the ready as soon as I asked, and I know, thanks to so many offers, that there are even more ready and willing hands just waiting for a time when I ask again. Each time I ask and receive aid, I find myself thanking God for another lesson- a lesson in humility, a lesson in the body of Christ, a lesson in gratitude.

God has provided for us. He has provided for our physical needs. He has provided for our spiritual needs and He has provided for our emotional needs. But as with so many of His gifts, He may provide but we must accept. His gift of freewill just works that way. We can choose whether or not we want to accept his providence of a caring, supportive Church family, just as He has given us the choice on whether or not we believe in Him and allow Him to be Lord of our life.


“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.." Matthew 7:7-12

Beautiful Pain

Most days things seem to go fairly smooth. Routine and purpose keep me moving and motivated to handle all that lays at my feet these days. Yet still there are some days when it takes all I have just to shuffle through, completing only the most basic, basic of tasks (primarily caring for the girls and ensuring they get three meals a day). It feels like I have had a week of just those kinds of days. There have been outside forces, such as sick children and now a sick me, that have aggravated everything, but deep down at the heart of the issue, these days have come about because of one thing:

I miss Drew.

I miss Drew ever so much.

Even writing those words causes tears to flow freely. Tears have been my frequent companion and tears have been the day's final act each night as I finally succumb to sleep. They come unannounced and at unexpected times. Except at night, the situation is always different, but no matter what the circumstance, the reason is always the same- Drew is not near.

At this moment, the pain seems nearly unbearable and I know there is no relief in sight. Drew is my other half and there is nothing and no one who can lessen or fill the void his absence has created while I await his return. The days will go on. Many will be pleasant and joy-filled, but still I will carry Drew's absence with me. Yet despite all of that, I am thankful for the pain- okay, maybe not the pain itself but what the pain represents. I am thankful for Drew. I am incredibly thankful that he is my husband and I am grateful for the relationship we have. 

A relationship that makes this time apart hurt.

A relationship that makes the pain beautiful.

Hand Count

Some stories just need to be shared. Forgive me if it isn't done in the most eloquent of ways.
(Written a week ago Friday.)

After a busy morning and afternoon, I found myself in the kitchen finishing up the prep work for a side dish to take to a church event this evening and ready to focus on dressing the girls up as "princesses" for the same event- having just enough time to accomplish it all before we needed to be out the door. When all of a sudden I pressed my foot down and felt a sharp cutting pain in my left heel. I knew immediately what I'd done. Yesterday Noelle dropped a glass on the floor, shattering it. I'm certain I now had a sliver of the glass lodged in my heel. I sit down to look and realized it had gone completely into my foot. In the twenty minutes it would take me to loosen, wiggle and squeeze the sliver out of my heel, I sent Naomi on a few search and find missions (tweezers, ect.) and asked her to get herself dressed for the event. At the same time, I was hot from the rising humidity with no breeze or AC to cool the house, I had to shew Noelle out of my lap where she was determined to sit and I had to reassure Naomi that we would still be going to the church event.... we just may be late. All of this piling on when I'm already tired and exhausted and thinking just how nice it would be to have a second set of hands- preferably in the form of Drew.

By the time I removed the sliver, we were already late for the the church event, Noelle wasn't yet dressed and the house looked like a mini tornado had blown through. Not ideal, but it was time to focus on the needs and ignore the rest. We finally managed to get in the car and on our way.... thirty minutes late. So we get to the church building and I wondered just how much we've missed and if I would I be able to get something for the girls to eat without causing them to miss even more.

We walked in the doors and people were almost instantly there to help us. One lady came by and took my side dish, another directed us to the activity that was just finishing up, helping us to complete it so the girls didn't miss out. Then as we headed to the food line, I realized how daunting it may be. I had two little girls- one who's too excited to stay put and the other who was clinging to my side for dear life and neither who is big enough to carry a plate of food through the church building- plus myself to feed and only two hands. I figure Noelle and I could share a plate and I continued on. As I was setting Noelle down and asking her to hold Naomi's hand so we can go through the line, a lady from the church came up and offered to help fill our plates. She took Naomi and a plate and headed off, with Noelle and I just behind. We made our way through the line and were approaching the drink station where I once again did a hand count. Three plates, napkins, silverware, three drinks, two girls who needed corralling....  and only four hands to help. Somehow the math didn't seem to add up. I figured I can run back for additional drinks or again, we'd share, when a gentleman came up and offered to carry some drinks for us. I laughed to myself a bit as I saw the two girls walking with an "entourage" of adults behind- two additional sets of hands helping to get us settled only an hour after I was wishing for just one extra set to help me out.

As the girls and I sat down, I realized I no longer felt any of the frustration or stress from an hour ago. The consideration and helping hands of our Church family had caused them to be replaced with a sense of love, compassion and Heavenly providence. I have already seen how quickly our Church family has responded if I voiced a need and now I see people jumping in to help when they notice an unspoken need. I love my family and there will never be any to replace them, but I am ever so thankful for the Church and our Church family. We have seen their faithfulness and love in times past and we are experiencing it in its fullness once again.

One Month Down

One month has passed since Drew boarded a plane that took him away from family and home. One month down- eight plus months to go- and how are we doing? The straight forward, honest answer is that we are doing quite well.

We have worked through a few difficulties with Naomi and now her attitude and behavior are as good as we could ever hope for and not different in any material way from before Drew left. Noelle, who has always been fairly independent, needs more cuddles and close proximity to Mommy, but with the return of our regular schedule, she has otherwise settled back to her easy going, content self, playing and occupying herself quite easily for hours. I do find that both girls want to see Drew’s picture at least once a day and the viewing always includes a kiss or two. Since we have had the opportunity to Skype with Drew (about once every four or five days), there is a greater ease in both the girls.

Life for me seems to be much the same. There is more to handle and juggle, and it seems there is never enough time. However I am learning to cope and manage fairly well. Missing Drew never gets easier; in fact, it is getting worse with time. Yet I have a peace about it all. Most definitely, it is a peace that passes all understanding and I can only attribute it to God. There is no reason I should feel so at peace given Drew’s situation, and it seems from everyone’s comments and questions that they would agree with that statement. In fact because of that sense, I find myself questioning if there is something wrong with me, but I am not hiding from reality and I’m not avoiding the facts. I just know who is in control; I know who holds our lives in His hand and I know that He cares for us. That doesn’t mean we’ll be protected from harm but it does mean He’ll see us through whatever may come.

Eight months is still such a long time. All I want is to be wrapped in Drew’s arms, to have a true family dinner and not to go to bed alone. Some things won’t get easier and some things just can’t be “fixed.” Many tears have yet to be shed, but I know,

“The Lord is the one who goes ahead of you; He will be with you. He will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.” Deuteronomy 31:8

PRAISE GOD for His unceasing lovingkindness and providence and His concern for one as insignificant as I!

The Other Side of Renting

For the past year or so, I have cringed at the thought of how much we are spending on monthly rent. It provides us with a home, for which I’m forever grateful, but it seems like it would be more prudent to put those funds toward owning our own home. At least then, the money is towards an investment. We’ve never pursued that route, though, as we didn’t want to have to worry about selling the house when new PCS orders came through or turning the home into a rental property managed by someone else. So, we have continued to rent and this weekend, I couldn’t help but thank God that we do.

Friday night around 8:30, our doorbell rang. When I opened the door, a gentleman waited outside. He introduced himself as one of our neighbors and promptly asked me if I had seen the back yard. I must admit I was mystified. I had been outside but I hadn’t noticed anything. I said as much, so he explained that during a storm the other day, a tree in our backyard, which butts up to our mutual fence, split down the middle. One portion remained upright; the other half fell across not one, but two different fence lines- damaging slats, crossbars, and fence posts.

(our tree and the fence between our yard and our neighbor's)

(looking into our nieghbors yard and our tree on the fence between their yard and their neighbor's yard)

Our neighbor explained what he felt would be a fair arrangement for labor and parts needed to fix the fence lines. I told him I would pass the information on to the owners, along with contact information. And with that action, my portion of the whole event was complete. I can only imagine how different it would be if we owned the property and it was my responsibility to tend to the whole situation personally. I could do it, if it was needed, but I am thankful that it isn’t mine to handle. 

Waiting

Drew sent me an e-mail this morning (before he went to bed over there) and told me he would be on Skype from 8pm-9pm tonight, if we wanted to try to Skype. IF I wanted to try and Skype? Of course, I want to see and hear him, so as soon as I was able after 8pm, I signed on to Skype but Drew wasn't on.

So I waited......

                     and waited......

                                         and waited......

                                                             and waited......

And here it is after 9pm and I never did see or hear from Drew. I'm not hurt or upset because I know it's not because of Drew's wishes or wants but it happened because of his circumstances (whether work, sleep, internet or otherwise related). It's moments like these though that are so hard. The anticipation and excitement about seeing Drew and hearing his voice has gone unanswered and come up wanting and all the feelings I hold so closely to my heart have been freed to express the sorrow and longing that I carry each step of the day. Moments like this are going to be unavoidable and no amount of "preparation" takes away the sting.

Yet still I know I am not alone in this feeling. This is nothing new to the military life or the military spouse and this is nothing new to our Lord. "Here I am. I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me." Revelation 3:20 
How many times and how long has God spent waiting for me-

waiting for me to seek Him,

              waiting for me to acknowledge Him,

                             waiting for me to do His work here on earth,

                                            waiting for me to thank Him and praise Him,

                                                          waiting for me to turn to Him for support, comfort and strength?

                                                                        Waiting on me.

How often have I left Him- just as the prodigal son did- to pursue my own paths, follow my own ideas? And how often have I come home- humbled, low and unworthy of His love and attention?



Lord,

Thank you for waiting for me, when so often I don't deserve the grace and patience that inspire it. Be with me as I wait and keep my head and heart busy with Your work while I do.