I paced a soldier for his PT test before dawn this morning. He is getting past a very rough couple of months, which included what looked like a tumor on his unborn baby's head that was considered so dangerous that he went home on emergency leave. The baby, thankfully, is currently in the clear.
By the grace of God, this soldier made it across the line in time this morning. He almost needed a medic afterward due to his smoking, the poor air quality, and the early winter chill--but he made it.
I have at least five soldiers whose wives are expecting. I'm not sure there is a harder thing for a soldier and his wife than to miss the birth of their baby. I'll try to do something for these soldiers on these occassions--perhaps smoke a cigar with them.
I find more and more soldiers talking about having more children when they get home. Some of them were content with the number they previously had, but there's something about a theater of war that makes one eager to produce life.
I think many of the soldiers' wives are of the same mind, even though they're going out of their minds with their kids while their husbands are gone. We all want more life and more family.
The shadow of death casts the peaks of life in greater relief. Talk of travel and dining out begins to feel cheap and wearisome. There is nothing so enjoyable as holding your child in your arms. Nothing so meaningful as raising that child in the love and nurture of the Lord (though many don't view child-rearing in such terms).
And what of money? People often talk about financial security as a top priority, but when are you ever financially secure? What number do you have to reach? And what about finances truly makes you secure? In the matter of a day, a job can be lost, savings can be wiped out by an economic crash, or a house can burn down. While one must be a wise steward with their God-given money, doesn't it provide more of an illusion of security rather than its substance?
In His providence, God provided my deployment in time for my wife to cede her role as primary breadwinner, assume her world-changing role as mother, and allowed me to provide for our family's needs. But what of my return? The belt will be tightened and the knee will remain bowed.
And, regardless of our circumstances, I look forward to taking part in the post-war baby boom. I look forward to arms full of children, bunk beds, passed down clothing, and endless noise. I look forward to dividing food between my babies' mouths and the kitchen floor. I look forward to giving my wife a breather, popping the kids in the running stroller, and going for a jog or taking them to the park. I look forward to teaching my kids the Bible, catechism, philosophy, history and ancient languages. I look forward to reading books, praying, and singing with them. I look forward to teaching my boys how to respect and protect girls and teaching my girls how to guard their hearts. I look forward to telling them about Jesus, who is worthy of all of their love and devotion.
I have not often traveled to the far-flung fringes of the present conflict. But even in a more safe and stable area, with smoke rising across the horizon from an incident we'll probably learn about tomorrow, the spectre of war and death brings home the preciousness of life. Some people say they don't have time for kids. I don't have time to not have kids. I don't have time for a bachelor-like life, or a life with my dear wife that excludes children. I don't have time for the illusion of security that finances and self-help books offer.
Though the Spirit will lessen the grip of selfishness on my sin-twisted heart, that grasp will never be relinquished in this life. But by God's grace, may I lose myself more in His glory and enjoying Him forever, and cultivate that same driving purpose and animating passion in my family.
