Goodbye, August

Woah!

Where did August go? Today is the last day of the month and it's so, so exciting for me. A full month has passed since I've seen E which means an entire month of this deployment is officially over! I'm so blessed to say that it truly feels like just a month has passed. I won't go as far as to say that it passed by quickly, but it certainly didn't drag. I've heard that the first and last month are the hardest, so I'm hopeful that the rest of this deployment passes by in the same way. While I'm always thankful for the days and months God gives me to live, I certainly can't wait for the next eight to pass by.

August wasn't just about getting the first month of deployment down. While I almost always talk or write about how deployment affects my life, I realize that there are other things I've got to focus on and experience on my own. In that aspect, August really challenged me and I can say that there have been just as many ups as there have been downs. 

My job has been such a blessing. Financially, it's made us as comfortable as we've ever been. When it comes to actually enjoying the work, well, I'm getting there. There have been some tough days that I felt like it was so beyond me to actually be an executive director, but there have been other days that leave me with a feeling that I really am making a difference. The days that I'm enjoying work are slowly starting to outnumber the days I wish I were back to making coffee, so I'm taking that as a sign that God is using this job as a vessel for me to reach into the community and do His work. 

I've also actually made the first steps to become healthier and I've lost three little pounds. No, three pounds aren't a lot but they really have motivated me to keep going. I've cut out fast foods, sweet tea and I've started to drink lots of water and cook healthier. I already feel myself changing which really makes it easier to wake up every day and keep going.

I've started to do a good "deep cleaning" of the apartment before fall gets here and I'm getting rid of a bunch of clothes that I don't really need or wear anymore. It really does feel nice to organize, label and purge things, even if it's just a small amount of "stuff" to go through.

August also brought a different kind of heartache that I experienced after Ethan deployed. I've mentioned it before, and truly feel like I've said all I can say but the fact is that I still miss who I thought was a good friend. I'm not sure if it's normal, but I do this every time. Every time I have a friend "leave," it takes me weeks and weeks to get over it; honestly even after time, I never really do. The weekends are the absolute worst because I get on Facebook and Twitter and see where people are connecting with their friends or out with their significant others and it just hits me: I'm alone with my dog watching TV. But I look at this as a blessing, too. For some people, the week days drag and the weekends fly so I'd rather be miserable for two days instead of five at a time. I still hold out hope that I'll get a simple text or call or email but the more time that goes by the easier it is to understand that I've been forgotten.

Because Fall is my favorite season, I think it will be a tough one to get through without E. I love going to the mountains for day trips, haunted trails, pumpkin patches, chilly mornings, turning leaves and all the other fun things about Autumn. This year, I know it will be much different. There are so many things that are different about this fall from those in the past. Traditions that I loved won't commence, activities that I enjoy with my husband or in a group won't be the same solo. I'm sure there will be moments when I'll feel like I'm missing something and that the life is unkindly moving past me while I watch from the sidelines, but I pray I remember that I must get past this season to see the spring when I'll see my E again. Apple festivals, haunted trails, Shatley Springs, late night walks in the park, Oktoberfest, birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Black Friday... these things are things I loved in the past; these are things I looked forward to and got comfortable with because they just happened. But this year, they are all sad reminders of things that have passed or things that will come and go or things that I just can't have anymore; I can't have a romantic walk in the part without my love, of course.

But just as August has come and gone, fall will come and go. It might seem impossible at times, but it won't be. With God all things are possible and I will surely get through even my most favorite time of year.

September, please be kind.

Praying With My Husband

An unexpected call from my husband usually brings tears to my eyes in such a good way. Tonight, and it's rare that I hear from him at night because it's really his early early morning, it was a bit different.

He had just gotten back from somewhere, where he had been for some amount of time doing something. It was 3am his time so I was nervous when I answered the phone, subconsciously wondering what was making him call so early. He literally had just gotten back and wanted to call before going to bed because he said he promised me he would and didn't want me worrying for however many days it may be before he called again. I teared up a little bit realizing how much he still thought about me even during times when he's at his most exhausted.

And then it finally happened. We had unpleasant exchanging of words. We didn't fight, but it wasn't really pleasant talks. I asked him something and he got defensive. Then I got defensive. I stopped myself but it was too late - we had just had a disagreement or whatever you want to call it and I so desperately wanted to avoid that while he was gone. I didn't want to ever, ever be a reason why he was stressed out or upset and in that moment I felt like I had truly failed him.

I tried to bounce back but I knew he was tired. And I also knew I was emotionally drained. He had been out for hours and hours doing something and while it obviously isn't the same thing, I had been home for hours and hours, worrying and praying and trying to make myself stay sane.

I asked him what he needed again and told him I was sending him a pillow and a blanket because I wanted him to be comfortable. He said he wasn't uncomfortable and I then just said, "I don't know what to do to help you." He said I didn't need to do anything.

But the truth is, I do need to do something. I need to protect my husband. I need to provide comfort for him. I need to make this better.

So I told him to go get some sleep. But before that, I asked him if we could pray. And I did. I prayed for him and for his unit and in those thirty short seconds, the distance wasn't so far. The  miles weren't as stretched out and even though he wasn't in a good mood, I knew I was doing something that he could feel. I was giving him something that wasn't just what he needed, but was what we needed. I pray for him daily, and I know he prays too, but praying together is something I treasure in our marriage. It's something that brings us closer than anything we could ever do physically, and it's something that this deployment can't take away from us. Hearing him say, "amen" is something that I treasure. It's more important than, "I love you" or "I miss you." It's a reminder that our marriage is a cord of three strands. And a cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

So while this seven minute phone call won't go down in history as the most pleasant, it will go down as one of the best. Not because he was happy, not because we were snippy, not because he was tired or irritated or sleepy, not because I was scared or nervous or feeling helpless...

...it will be remembered because we prayed. 

Door Knocks and Bent Metal

Last night, I had the scare of my life. Maybe it was the fact I had just watched a few episodes of Army Wives, or maybe I was just trying to process some of the details Ethan mentioned during his phone call that morning about his first mission... either way, I was especially on edge. I was eating dinner and watching TV and then, it happened. There was a steady knock at my door. My eyes flashed at the clock and I tried to process what time it was here, what time it was in Afghanistan and how late casualty notifcation took place. Wasn't it 7pm? Or did they notify until 9pm? Would they know I'm here, since I forgot to change my address? Had they notified someone else? How did it happen? Did it happen? My heart sunk and I opened the door to find my neighbor. He asked a question, I answered and I walked back in and I absolutely lost it. My sister had no clue why I was so upset, and how could I say it outloud? How easy is it to say that even though I'm strong most of the time, that a knock on my door brings me to my knees? How could she possibly understand that that sound, the sound of a fist on a door, has the potentional to destroy my whole world?

I couldn't possibly explain it, so I didn't. And I don't know if it was the massage I had that afternoon, the exhaustion of stress or God just giving me peace for the night but I slept well. This morning I woke up and forgot that I let someone borrow my car. I started my walk to work and realized that I didn't have to run a race. How often do I really get to enjoy a liesurely walk in the cool morning air? Wouldn't it be awesome if I used this time to talk to God, and to pray for my husband? So I did. I started off quite formally in my head but by the time I turned the corner to my office, I probably looked like a crazy person. I was rambing outloud, using my hands, gesturing to what appeared to be nothing. I laughed, I almost cried. It was awesome. And then I asked God to just remind us that He was in control. I asked God to remind me that during my day, I was serving Him and that Ethan was serving Him. I asked Him to show Himself to me in anyway He could so that I would always be reminded.

I took a few steps, looked up, and I saw this:

Seriously? Now I know it was there before I started praying. I know that this twisted piece of metal might have been passed by for weeks on my countless walks to work. But this morning, I saw it. Call me crazy, but it was no coinsidence.

I laughed and I realized how good God is. I then told Him that if He wanted to send me a phone call from E, that that would be good too.

I got to work and within minutes my phone was ringing. Can I just take a minute to say how awesome it feels to know that my husband and I have such a solid rock as our foundation for marriage? I've said this before and I was met with resistance and a bit of backlash but I still mean every word: I don't know how marriages thrive without Christ as their center and focus. How could any marriage truly be good without the one true Good thing about life? I could go on and on and on.

Ethan made me laugh today. He was funny and he sounded happier and he sounded like himself. We talked about life today and life when he comes home. It truly warmed my soul to feel so connected to someone by a simple, thirty minute phone conversation. I can feel his presence through these calls, through his prayers and through my own walks with God. I can feel our marriage becoming stronger, our relationship with Christ growing and our love for each other holding on in a way that only true love can.

I'm not saying this distance is easy. At the least, seeing him off in Texas was the very worst day of my life so far. But there is a but. But it isn't SO bad.

Here's to Christ reminding us of our walk, of our faith and of our love for each other.

I hate the weekends.

I wish I could say I was strong tonight but I feel so, so weak. I have no friends, my husband is gone and I've never let it get to me like it has tonight. This is the first time I've felt like I lost control of the entire situation and I've never been so alone. I am so scared because this the first time since E's been gone that I've had to actually be afraid. I know I can't post specifics because of OPSEC but I know what's he doing right now and I know he can't call and I know it isn't safe and I can't be sure what's going to happen. I'm just scared. I want this to be over so badly because he's all I have in this entire world and to be without it is something I can't handle.

I hate the weekends so much.

Josiah

The moment someone asks you how your husband is doing, and you realize that for them, everytime a soldier goes overseas, they relive their own loved one's deployment all over again.

Her brother was killed in action two years ago.

Josiah, your sacrifice hasn't been forgotten. From those who you knew you the best to those who never met you at all, there is a debt that can never be repaid to you that allows us to continue on. Thank you seems inadequate.

Scared.

I'm super scared at the moment, and I'm not even afraid to admit it.

When I took my job, I did it for several reasons. It was a great opportunity for my career, it will look awesome on my resume, I get to be an executive, I get a fancy office, people do what I say...okay, I'm kidding mostly. But in complete serious, there were three main reasons why I took it. The first was obvious: I needed a paycheck. The second was less obvious but equally as important: I love knowing that I'm making a difference. The third reason, well, is probably a poor reason but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't true: I couldn't wait to say I was an executive director at the age of 21. I wanted badly to sit back and know that after all I had been through, gone through, and worked for, I had managed to graduate college (a year early) and become an executive director within two months. It really sounds much too good to be true, right? Um, actually it's way to good to be true, someone come save me!

But as they say, I'm such a trooper. I'm making it work as absolutely best I can. The problem is, I'm so lost. I can handle about 50% of the work just fine, but the other 50% has me feeling like a dog chasing its tail. I'm trying really hard not to panic, but panicking is something I do really, really well. Am I allowed to complain for a quick second?

I wasn't trained for my job. That's my complaint. I was an administrative assistant for a few weeks, trained to be an Interim ED for 1.5 weeks, and then, I got the job. Not one hour of training has been given to me to do this job. And I've never done this job before. And I can tell that members of my board are a little less than pleased with some of the things I've done or not done. AND I don't blame them.

I mean, I should be selling tickets to the JK band's show in September. I've sold two. I don't know what to do, though. I've just never done this.

Le sigh.

So now, I'm meeting with the committee who hired me in about four hours for my evaluation. Most of my work has been good and I've even raised $3,500 in my short 30 day stint as ED, but I'm lacking in some areas something fierce. So I've decided to turn the tables and after my evaluation, I'm planning to let them know I've also been doing my own evaluation, in the most professional of ways. They need to know what my concerns are and what my hesitations are. They need to know what I've observed and why I'm freaking the hell out.

In the middle of writing this blog post, Ethan called. I cannot tell you how good it felt to talk to him about me. I know that sounds crazy, but for the past month I've made sure to only ask him how he is and let him tell me all about deployment. I always spend time being extra perky, trying to help him keep up his spirits and telling him a million times how much I love him. And I love doing that. I really do love hearing about his days and how he is, but this time I needed my husband to help me. And even though he's 3,000 miles away, he didn't disappoint me.

I don't think I can do this.
It's not a matter of you being able to do it, it's a matter of whether they'll let you do this.
But I'm so lost. I really can't do this job.
Yes, you can.

Is it crazy to me that just those four sentences out of our entire 12 minute conversation mean so, so much? A year ago, I would have been so angry with him for not listening to me. I just said I can't do this. Stop arguing with me! But now, I just trust him. I believe him. I know I can do this, it isn't a matter of my ability. But as they say, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink.

I can do my best to lead this organization, but I can't make it survive without it's own desire to do so.

Meeting in t-minus 2.5 hours. Let's do it.

Wake-up!

This morning I had the best wake-up call in the entire world.

Technically, I actually woke up to a text with this picture from Lukas:

Can someone please tell me after all this time how he knew that my room, at that exact moment, looked just like this:

It did make me laugh. ANYWAY.

About 45 minutes later, when I finally decided I could sleep for an hour longer before I had to get ready for work, my phone rang. My heart skipped beats. The six numbers flashing on my screen that would look so foreign to anyone else sent a wave of excitement that only the anticipation of talking to Ethan can bring. I wish I could articulate how special those phone calls are.

I never really understood what it meant to take things for granted until now. I've always been able to just call my husband, no matter what the reason is. Now, I find myself making little notes on a sticky note so that I don't forget to mention something when he calls. Whenever that may be.

E didn't sound himself this time, which was disheartening. I mean, his voice was normal but he just sounded down. I'm not saying that he should sound perky to be where he is, but it would make me feel better to know he's in better spirits. It's not all about me, obviously, but I can't help but worry harder when I know he's unhappy. I'm praying that when he gets to his FOB, he'll be able to have a more steady schedule and feel better about what's going on. I sent his first care package this past Saturday, so hopefully it won't be too much longer before he gets it and maybe that will help some.

But even when he sounds a bit down, there's nothing better than hearing him say, "I love you." Realizing that we're already three weeks into this deployment helps a bit, too. I've always been so aggrivated when he talks about what he wants to do when he comes home as far as work and school goes, because there's no need to worry about it but I think it's really an outlet for him. It gives him something to focus on and something to really work to come home to.

Thirty minutes passed way too quickley, and before I knew it, he was off the phone. I think that the hours immediately following a phone call are the absolute hardest to get through. I know that no matter how many times I look at my phone, there's a slim chance it will ring for the next few days. My mind creates a hundered worst-case scenarios before then, and the news will not take a few days off to spare my feelings the harsh reality of the war.

Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade hearing his voice for anything in this world, and I mean anything, but that doesn't always make it easier. It's an all around sucky situation that I just can't wait to be done with.

So now I've had my phone call for the next few days and it's on to waiting with bated breath for the next one. I never tire of hearing, "hey bug," as soon as I pick up the phone, knowing that for at least half an hour the world will be right.

Three weeks down, and (give or take a few) 33 more to go...

Truth Time.

Truth time.

I have absolutely awesome body image. And I mean awesome. When I look in the mirror, I have an uncanny ability to look right past my extremely rounded face, huge arms, expanded stomach and crazy fat thighs. For whatever reason, I just don't see myself as overweight when I look in the mirror. 

Last night I as in a hurry to get ready and I was rummaging through my drawers trying to find a pair of jeans. I haven't worn jeans in months but I decided I wanted to and turned my room upside down trying to find The Pair. I laughed as I sorted past the size 12, light washed jeans I purchased on sale from American Eagle about two years go - the jeans I dubbed "goal jeans." I smirked at the size 14s shoved at the back of a drawer that had signs of wear but hadn't been worn in over a year. I swallowed hard as I held up a pair of size 16s that fit about six months ago, realizing the waist band was a few inches too short and then, as I found a pair of size 18s - one of only two pairs that I allowed myself to buy -I winced, knowing that I arrived at the right pair. I started to put them on and laughed nervously as they appeared to be a bit tight. And by a bit tight, I mean I thought I confused the 18s for the 14s. What. The. Fuck.

I ripped them off, found the second pair of 18s, absolutely sure that the first pair had been a victim of shrinking in the dryer. But I was surely wrong and my dryer had committed no crime; the same defeated feeling overcame as I struggled to make the zipper stay put. 

Le sigh. 

Yes, that was the moment when I knew it was time to face the music. I mean, it was one of the moments when I decided to face the music. Technically, I've known I needed to do something about my health/fitness/fatness for a few years but I always managed to convince myself that since I knew I could lose weight when I was ready, that I could just wait. Instead of busting my ass in the gym, I was sitting on my ass watching TV. Instead of perfecting muscle tone, I was perfecting angles in the camera to make me look as tiny as possible. Without actually being tiny. To be honest, I'm not sure which is harder: working out to get skinny or working to convince yourself and other people that you're skinny without actually being skinny. That's exhausting just thinking about.

So there I was, with tight jeans on - or kind of on - looking in the mirror and finally seeing it. Yep. That's what fat looks like. And I don't even need the whole politically correct verbage to spare my over-sized feelings. Fat is just fat and in the wise words of Dr. Phil, I'm not even going to sugar coat it because I'd eat that, too.

Right before Ethan left, I told him about how he didn't need to worry about me while he was gone because I was going to spend the next ten months working on me. And so far, all I've actually accomplished is watching two seasons of Pretty Little Liars, season one of Army Wives, and about 15 minutes of Weeds. Totally unacceptable.

And at risk of sounding self-pitiful, one would think that being kicked to the curb by your BFF, left behind while your husband deploys for a year and finally having a 9-5 job freeing up most nights and weekends would be the perfect recipe for self reflection, aerobic activity and tedious healthy cooking. Quite honestly, I'm just as disgusted with my vast wasting away of time than I am of my expanding mid section and ass. And to be even more honest, despite the fact that my only wish in the entire world is for my husband to come home soon, soon, soon... I will totally regret not spending these next few (lol - few?) months focusing almost all of my attention on myself. How many chances do we really get like that after marriage?

This picture is of me in April of 2007, a little over five years ago and about eight months before my husband and I started dating. The funny thing is that I absolutely remember this time in my life and I felt absolutely huge. I was dieting super hard and working out and telling myself that I needed to get smaller and smaller, and I was absolutely never satisfied with the end result. I mean, seriously? Look at my little arms! Look at my flat tummy without having to suck in! Look at my thighs - that while thick were still attractive?! And can I also add that those jeans were size 12s? I bought them on impulse - two pairs actually - after finally being able to ditch my 14s after months of hard work, sweat and Lean Cuisines.

Ah, just looking at that picture has me craving dates with the treadmill and 100 calorie packs for dessert. So, flashing back to last night's rummage through my jeans and I made a huge decision. Those size 12s? They are once again Goal Jeans and before my husband comes back to the good 'ole USA, they will be The Pair that I'm searching for - not for laughs, but for actual wearing purposes.

While a size 12 isn't "skinny" to most people, and is still considered to be "plus size" in the fashion industry, it's what's do-able for me. It's what will make me feel better inside and outside and what I know I can achieve within a year's ten month's time frame. It's what my husband will appreciate because, to be 100% honest without a care if it's TMI - hubs happens to like a little junk in the trunk.

So here's to the start of a 10 month journey to be a better me. I'm going to be taking "before" pictures tomorrow - gag - and doing an official "start" weigh-in, and from there, I'll be writing weekly progress posts. I'm not going to lie, I'm damn excited to stop being such a fatty. I'll probably cuss myself and whine and complain and pretend like I'm miserable, but in reality, I'll be so, so, so excited and by the time my E comes home, I know I'll be crazy proud of myself.

Let's do this.

Reunions and Sacrifices Realized

Thursday was Reunion Day in my sweet town of Newton. As I try and think back to a time when I didn't experience the magic of the city coming together in celebration on the third Thursday in August, my mind goes blank. Come rain or shine, the day has always started at 9am with vendors, music and appreciation for our soldiers. For years I was in the parade, and then when I started working at Zander's I watched from the window in between helping customers. This year was the first year I can remember not having to do anything but enjoy the festivities, and living in our loft above the town's square gave us the perfect view, not to mention air conditioning.

I was dreading the parade for days, to be honest, because sometimes, as patriotic as I try to be, thinking of the miltiary just gets to me too much. Whenever I see a man or woman in uniform, I feel an overwhelming since of pride for them, but I also feel a tiny bit sad as I'm reminded of where my own husband is. An entire day of those feelings is emotionally draining, as I'm still learning how to experience all of these feelings without letting it show too much.

It's actually quite interesting to go from angry to joyful, scared to proud, excited to sad, and energetic to exhausted, several times a day. I'm not saying I like it, but it's interesting.

The day proved to be better than I expected, though, and I took advantage of my prime spot above the town by hanging a banner from our bedroom window, asking anyone who saw it to pray for my husband. While I think everyone who comes to the parade knows what it's about, I think it's easy for many to forget that it isn't just veterans of wars from the past we're honoring. At times I feel like stopping people in their tracks when I see them laughing, holding hands with their significant other or doing the simplest of things like getting into their cars as families. I know it isn't realistic, or even fair, to be angry at these things but again, I can't help it at times. At least I knew I had done what I could do to remind others of those brave soldiers thousands of miles away who are protecting their right to celebrate.

And for the most part, each float or car did their part in waving American flags and decorating with red, white and blue. The only time I truly find myself wanting the day to disappear was when the float passed that held the memorial of the fallen soldier. I don't think it will ever get easier to see the homage made up of combat boots, a rifle and headgear. In my opinion, the entire street should have silenced as it made its way through; but alas, further proof that few understood what it really represented was made evident as children still ran, people still talked and the music still blared.

Even when all of me wants to turn my head and spare myself the images of the ultimate sacrifice made by the American soldier, I will never avoid it. I will always make myself understand that there are others who have come before me and those who will come after me who lived, fought and died so that I don't have to.

One more day closer...

This morning God answered my prayers of last night and I was given the best wake-up call ever! Talking to my Bug first thing surely set the tone for a good day, and honestly, it didn't disappoint. I got to work on time, was super productive and left right at five. I got home, painted a super exciting banner for my sweet hubs who can't be at the parade tomorrow afternoon and then took Roo for a walk through the town during the street dance. She got lots of sweet cuddles and was as behaved as she knows how to be. What more could I ask for during a time like this? 

Tomorrow will surely be a busy day but I'm excited to pick up a few things E has asked for and get his first package sent off. I've been told it will take anywhere from a week to three weeks, so I'm just ready to let it be on its way so it can get to him. 

One more day closer to the best day of my life!

Phone call.

I heard from my sweet husband today. Hearing, "I'm fine," and, "I love you," have uplifted my soul. Such simple words carried so much weight.I have few words to write because I'm emotional just grasping the idea of how my heart could be so full of so much love for one person.

God is good.

Rough day.

Today was maybe the hardest day I've had since Ethan arrived in Afghanistan.

I woke up to a brief Facebook message but started my day off disappointed that I didn't get a phone call. As of tonight, it has been almost five days since I've heard his voice and that is enough to cause a bad day in itself.

I went back to sleep, thinking I could waste the day in bed but I forced myself up around lunch to get ready for the Martin family reunion. This is the reunion of Ethan's family on his mom's side. To be more specific, his great grandmother's side of the family. I felt obligated to go for several reasons, the primary reason being that I wear her ring on my hand. Passed down through generations, it landed on my finger and that is enough to get me out of the house. It was tough being around E's family for the first time since he's been gone. It didn't feel right without him there, and of course the looks and, "I'm sorry"'s when people I didn't know found out where he was didn't quite help.

I made myself leave and spent a crazy amount of money buying things for Ethan's care packages. Somehow, making these care packages have become very therapeutic. If I can't hug my husband and talk to him and take away all the bad things in his life, then the least I can do is immerse myself in making sure that he opens up the closest thing to "home" I can give. These are the two I spent the weekend decorating, and I think they came out quite nicely:

After I got back home and filled up the boxes, one to send tomorrow and one to send next week, I  decided to take advantage of my bedroom window overlooking the town and curled up beside Roo to watch the annual Soldier's Reunion Cruising. I people watched for awhile because the cars weren't really important to me. I saw kids laughing and waving, grown men act like children on Christmas as they salivated over engines and paint jobs, and the general consensus as I looked around was happiness. It was sickening. I wanted to scream from my window that it was so inappropriate to be celebrating and acting like this week was somehow special because we attached the word "soldier" in front of it. Like using that word gives us an excuse to have fun instead of going about the mundane. I realize I was incredibly unfair in my emotions, but they were mine, okay? 

I wanted to stop everyone and tell them that this war is not over. That there are troops over there RIGHT NOW being attacked while we look at cars and parade around the square in these things that cost more than makes sense in my head. I wanted to cry because how, how on EARTH can I celebrate while my husband is in Afghanistan? I can't bring myself to do it. I don't know how these people can do it. It isn't their fault... it's mine for being an emotional mess. I'm allowed to be sometimes, though.

Life goes on and today was such a stark reminder of it. The war doesn't stop, life doesn't stop.

It just keeps going.

Blah.

Over a week has passed since E left America and it's been an odd week. I've not burst into tears at random moments or anything but I've found that I'm much more easily irritated. Things that I would typically ignore make me super grumpy or even mad. My "old" best friend, who I had this huge falling out with? Hearing her name just makes me fume. And I don't know why. A year ago, I would be showing up at her apartment and apologizing (without having much to be sorry for) and practically begging for a moment of time to explain (something I didn't really understand) before finally being given (as if it were some precious gift) a piece of friendship back.  Today? I'm just furious. I mean honest to goodness angry. Not my usual sulky, understanding, sad self. This is just something odd that I don't know how to get used to yet. I'm almost never angry.

I've had one phone call since I last wrote that was wonderful, but since then a face book message. I can't lie and say I'm okay with this because I've seen his friends online, wives who rejoice after daily or almost-daily phone calls and I've gotta be honest, I don't get why Ethan isn't doing the same. I mean, am not mad at him but it's really getting me down. His friend put a post on my wall that he "dragged" E to the MWR to get on the computer. Why can't he do it willingly?? Ugh, I'm sure there is a good reason. I just have to keep telling myself this.

I've been pretty crafty this weekend, though. So I'll have to post pictures once my last project is finished. I'm super impressed with myself that I even got off the couch to make anything.

Until next time.

Psalm 91

A written prayer.

Thank you, God, for giving me strength. Today, when I did not cry over the lack of a phone call from E, I felt like a bad wife for a while. Shouldn't I be falling a part, just as I was a mere 24 hours ago? Why was I feeling, suddenly, like things were okay? And then, Lord, You put it on my heart. I prayed to You. I asked You to give me strength and to help me through this. Why am I so surprised that You did? Why wasn't that my gut reaction? Because I am so broken, Lord, my mind has trouble comprehending Your blessings. 

Thank You for giving me peace today, even without the voice of my husband. Thank You for letting me wake up this morning to find a Face book message from him that, although short, let me know he was safe. Thank You for giving me today, because even though I focus so much energy praying that my husband comes home safe and sound, I also know that my own tomorrows are not guaranteed; my days are gifts, too. 

Tonight I pray that You continue to wrap your arms around him in protection, peace and comfort. I pray You will also give me and peace and courage to face each day of this deployment like I have today.

Lord, Your blessings are many and I remember that through You, all things are possible.

Psalm 91

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.^[a]
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, 
    my God, in whom I trust.”

³ Surely he will save you
    from the fowler’s snare 
    and from the deadly pestilence. 
⁴ He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge; 
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
⁵ You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
⁶ nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.
⁷ A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
⁸ You will only observe with your eyes
    and see the punishment of the wicked.

⁹ If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
¹⁰ no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
¹¹ For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways; 
¹² they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. 
¹³ You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

¹⁴ “Because he^[b] loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
¹⁵ He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him. 
¹⁶ With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation. ”

Amen.

Best Friends

I can remember, about three or four years ago, sitting at home and immersing myself online. I found it to be an escape because, to be quite frank, I had few friends. I had a rather new boyfriend and I had friends that I would see at school, but on the weekends I was either with Ethan, at work, or alone. I envied what the popular kids had and wanted desperately to be like them. Why didn't I fit in with them? I remember sitting in my english class during my senior year of high school, when I was at L-R for the HSSA, and I would look around and try and find a group to just click with. But I couldn't. I didn't drink on the weekends or party or do the things that they did. I didn't find the jokes funny, or the ridiculous things that would land them in trouble even remotely worth spending my time on. It was frustrating to feel so out of place in a room full of people my own age.

Eventually, though, after graduation, I became really close to two people in that room. And they become my two best friends. Neither of them really friends with each other, but each seperately became a big part of who I was. I was so excited to have these friends. I needed them. My journey for companionship was finally coming to an end; the end result was two, not just one, excellent friends.

I changed myself at times for the both of them. I cleaned before they came over, I watched what I said or how I acted, and I went out of my way and bent over backwards to truly make them happy because keeping friends was worth it to me. Pathetic? Quite possibly. But I was so, so terrified that one day, they might decide I wasn't good enough to be their friend anymore and I had to, at all costs, make sure that didn't happen.

And all the while, my husband (who was then my boyfriend and then my fiance)watched me. At times, he was angry because I devoted so much attention to perfecting myself for my friends. I would invite them on our dates, make him schedule things around my plans with them, make him listen to my complaining and whining about why things weren't going well and then demand that he have an opinion about them. He had to like them and help me be perfect for them.

He watched me cry over fights, get angry behind the scenes, compromise my own happiness and then jump through hoops to keep things stable. In the beginning of my marriage, I was clutching on to one failing friendship so hard that I cried over that slipping relationship more than I smiled over the fact I was a wife. My priorities were so. messed. up.

It's been about eight months since friendship #1 dissolved. That was a rough, rough, rough time for me. And it's been about a week since friend #2 completely blindsided me and ended my very last best friendship. To say I was hurt was an understatement. In fact, I felt like a knife had been stratigically placed in my back. But the way this friendship ended was truly a blessing in disguise.

Her husband just isn't a cool guy. He called her a bad mom, threatened to divorce her, sent childish text messages to me which instigated an argument in which I called him a child and told him to grow up. I meant those words. How dare someone tell my best friend that she wasn't a good mom? How dare he tell me that he doesn't like my husband, the man who stood by their side as they eloped and witnessed their marriage? How dare he tell me that he doesn't like me, after I held his wife's hands as she found out she was pregnant, sat with her as she told her parents and waited outside the delivery room door to hold her sweet baby boy for the first time? How dare he, only hours after I told him to grow a pair, tell his wife that he would leave her and her two year old son if she talked to me again? No, he isn't a cool guy. And she listened to him. I heard through the grapevine that not talking to me was what was best for her famly.

And I cried. I told my husband and he was in disbelief. It was so out of character for her to take an order from someone like this. I can honestly say, that although I've made plenty of mistakes in my day, I didn't do anything wrong. I was called in the middle of the night, rushed to my best friend's side and within a day, the friendship was over. A controlling, verbally abusive husband stole my best friend. And she let him.

Yesterday, I was sort of at my low. I didn't get out of my PJs and I watched 13 hours of Pretty Little Liars, only getting up to let my dog outside. I cried some and lashed out at my friend via text. Texts she didn't respond to. I cried even more because I wasn't sure where my husband was. I hadn't - and still haven't - heard his voice since 1:30 saturday morning and I was terrified. I needed her to talk to and she wasn't there. So after taking some Nyquill (because not to mention I was sick), I fell into a rather deep sleep and woke up with a new attitude.

Her husband is what my husband is not. And it's obvious that I didn't pick him out myself. No, there is no way in the world I could have caught my E on my own. He is a gift from God. I think, just as much as I was surprised by my friend's ability to say "bye!" to me in an instant, I was shocked that a husband would put his wife in that position. Why was I so shocked? Well, because mine is so good to me. I mean, I have a husband that makes other husbands look bad. Now, I might be biased in some respects, but I know that I am truly blessed and highly favored.

And then, I just had to sit back and think about what I've been doing for so many years. I've been searching for a best friend high and low. I've broke my back to keep these friendships up and I've prayed that maybe one day I can have the ones I've lost back. And the whole time, my best friend has been right by my side. He's watched me exert all my effort into other people, sometimes putting him to the side. He has grown with me... literally, we have grown up together... and he's turned into this absolutely perfect husband. We bicker like we've been married for 40 years, we laugh like we're kids and when I look into his eyes, it's like the very first time. Each and every time. I can't think of a cooler thing in this world.

Maybe they're just being nice, but people tell us all the time how perfect we are together. We may not be perfect seperately, but I have to agree. We've been called that couple. The one couple who has it all together (ha!) and just loves each other to the point that it radiates. The couple who laughs, goofs off and truly enjoys their time with each other. I've got a grin on my face just thinking about it!

I am SO BLESSED.

So I have to just put this out there:

Thank you, old friends, for showing me what a best friend is NOT.
Thank you, husbands of the world, for showing me how AMAZING mine is.
Thank you, shakey marriages, for showing me how STABLE ours is.
Thank you, deployment, for showing us how STRONG we are.

Thank you, Bug, for showing me what a best friend IS.

I love you.

The Beginning 1%

Where to begin? The last I wrote, I was on a plane and Texas bound to stay with my husband for four short, glorious days. I wish I could bottle up the feeling I had when I first pulled up to the barracks and knew that I was about to see my sweet E! I couldn't stop smiling as he walked my way and started our mini-vacation in El Paso. We spent lots of time together, ate at yummy restaurants, saw movies, went to the Zoo and talked about life. For the first time since we've been together, E talked openly about wanting to have kids and how important it was for us to start a family. It warmed my heart and made my soul smile to hear my husband tell me that he wanted kids when he comes home. It makes me nervous thinking that this time next year we could be trying to have our first child, but it's also very exciting. I've always wanted to be a young mom but it's sort of crazy to think that the time is already coming that I could make that dream a reality.    

During all the times we were talking and laughing and loving each other, we were strengthening our marriage and affirming the vows we made almost 8 months ago.

 

Our four days ended, though, as good things sometimes do. I wish I could say that I had dry eyes and a tough skin as I drove back to the barracks, unloaded E's things and gave him one last hug before our 9-10 month separation began. But I can't say that at all. I hung on for dear life and asked him not to go. Unfair? Absolutely. But I couldn't find many other words. I didn't want him to leave. I don't like that he left. There are times, in weak moments, that I am truly angry about what he does for a living. But those moments are few and far between and they usually when I am at my most vulnerable. During the times I have to say, "see you later," and during the times that I'm the most scared.

I did, however, manage to say a hundred, "I love you"'s and gather the strength to get back in my car and drive away, leaving the love of my life behind. And as I left, there was a feeling of relief that washed over me. No, I didn't like what was happening but at least it was finally happening. For months and months we've been apart so he could train. We've been talking about deployment, preparing for deployment, cussing deployment and fearing deployment but now we can finally start this deployment. Now, we can count down until he comes home instead of when he would leave. That is something to celebrate, really.

Since I drove away from El Paso, miles have been flown. I'm back on the east coast and E is halfway across the globe. We've spoken once on the phone since he left the states, and he's left one Facebook message. It's hard at times and I find myself not wanting to sleep or do anything that might make me miss a call or a message. When I don't hear from him, I already start creating worst case scenarios in my head and when I have heard from him, I have a smile plastered on my face that would have to be surgically removed.

I know we've got this deployment and I know we're going to make it out stronger than ever, but we're about 1% into this with about 99% to go. It seems like an eternity away until he'll be back home but I know that's just me being dramatic. I went back through my blog to find out where I was at in life a year ago and I was slightly surprised. I was in New Orleans, and had been engaged for less than 48 hours. It is crazy to me that an entire year has passed since my then-boyfriend got down on my knee and proposed to me in the most romantic of ways. But a year has passed. And just as this year has passed, another year will pass. In fact, in 10 months, my husband should be back in the United States and I will look back on this post and thing, "10 months, already?" This is what I'm telling myself, at least. Because for me, it's midday and for E it's the middle of the night. Our worlds are different, our miles apart are many, but our love is stronger than it has ever been.

So as I sit on my couch, watching TV and feeling a bit sorry for myself, I also remain thankful that I have a husband to miss and a God to protect him. 

Here's to the next 99%!

Thanks to the Pease Greeters for taking this photo of
my husband as he stepped off the plane to refuel
in NH before making their way overseas!