More Random Tidbits

I coordinated a race from scratch today in order to clear some of my extra race swag out of my broom closet/office. For every five laps run around our motor pool track, a runner was given a prize (quality of prize increased with the laps). In between each lap, the runners also had to complete fitness events--push-ups, sit-ups, or pull-ups.

Even though we only had forty or so participants, the race was a success. People loved the format, and it was not timed, so people could pace themselves and enjoy the people around them. Many of the runners also went longer than they anticipated. Broken into bite sizes like it was, the race lost all power of intimidation. By the end, a number of semi-fit runners had run twenty laps (ten miles), done 160 push-ups, 120 sit-ups, and 32 pull-ups.

One male soldier and female marine from my unit had initially called it quits after fifteen laps as they had planned. They stood there for a moment, then looked at each other in a gesture of unspoken agreement. They put their belongings back down and ran the full twenty. One airman from my unit finished a lap before another airman from my unit. He ran a twenty first lap, keeping pace with his fellow airman. I am always so proud of these folks when I see these moments.

This race started at 0600 and I got up at 0515 to get it set up. We had cases of bottles of imitation Gatorade, dozens of mats on the ground for the push-ups and sit-ups, a large box of granola bars, and swag aplenty to reward the runners.

Good thing I had my coffee in hand. I had a short night's sleep due to the lures of the second Game of Thrones book. I would need two more cups later in the day to keep this choo-choo on the tracks. One cup I shared with my buddy, Megan, who has returned from the States to do good financial work for the military and to continue to add Gospel-centered heft to conversations and Bible studies. We met at my old post, where I was also able to visit with many of the my soldiers over the course of another hour or two.

The other cup was shared with my seminary-bound buddy, Steve, back here at my current post, as I continued to disciple him through Dangerous Calling and hearty discussions on the Christian faith and the ministry. I was glad to see my best buddy from each post in the same day. By the way, I call Steve "Double Dollar," because his initials are S.S. and if Keisha can use a dollar sign in her name, Steve sure as heck can dollar signs for his initials.

I closed the work day today by visiting most of my soldiers around the post with a bag of candy in one hand and a birthday card for a soldier in the other. If I never see another piece of candy after this deployment, I'll be so happy. Most soldiers are in the same boat. Whoever these purveyors of candy are--the reactions they have provoked will be most beneficial to soldiers. Their gums and guts thank you. People rarely take candy from me anymore. I use it more as an icebreaker. If I can, I'll toss a baggy of candy to a soldier and walk off before they can turn it down, or I'll leave it on a desk when someone isn't around.

A giant 9x6 banner of the Las Vegas Ragnar Relay now hangs in our half-hangar-sized Cross Fit gym. It is a banner of pride, displayed before our soldiers until they are brought home.

I am plotting my next run in the same vein as this morning's run. This is not due as much to popular acclaim as it is to the fact that I brought more leftover race swag back from my old post. I tried to clear my office of such swag early this morning. The night closes with boxes overflowing. And we have come full circle.

How We Can Care for Deployment Wives

Thank the Lord for 5-Hour Energy! As the last couple hundred pages of the first Game of Thrones book took bites from the morsels of my sleep, I was still enabled to plow through a day at one of the sites with my teams.

I realize I largely offered critiques for how one relates with a deployment wife in one of my recent posts. Here's a more constructive approach, with some practical waves to help these heroes.

1) Meals and household chores. Doing these things, especially when done spontaneously, can bring a bit of joy to what might otherwise be a dreary day for a spouse. That said, make sure not to make and offer without following through. This only breeds disappointment and additional loneliness.

2) Find out and attack specific needs. I have been convicted about this as a general rule. I often offer to help ("If you ever need anything..."), but my help is rarely requested. Why? People, as a general rule, do not like to see out help. Specifics target and offer to attack the problem and remove the overwhelming decision-making process from the plate of the spouse. One example: "Can I come over on Tuesday at 11am to mow your lawn?"

3) Know when to talk and when not to talk. There are some days when my wife is lonely and stuck to the house with our boy, and on those days, she could use a friendly face and warm conversation. There are other days when my wife is overwhelmed, exhausted, and particularly introverted and needs space. She'll play host to anyone who drops by with a smile on her face, but while she may not show it, such conversations could be draining for her. Ask her clearly what type of day it is for her, and ask her to respond clearly as well!

4) Empathize. I discussed what this does not mean in an earlier post. Being perfectly frank, one should carefully and tenderly love a deployment spouse as they would a new widow. They live with the fear of their husband's death, they live as if their husband is dead, and whatever portion of time is allotted to them for the deployment is, in a sense, a "dead" time of marital and family life that they will never get back (not to say it is not a valuable time as well, in God's providence).

Allow them to grieve and be prepared to simply listen and grieve with them. If they seem to be moving toward despair, coax them into seeking out hope and owning it. Don't tell them that they should have hope, or how to have hope, but ask about their worst fears and how God has kept those fears from being realized. Ask them how they have seen God at work recently. Ask them what God has used, and in particular any Bible passages He has used, to comfort them. Ask them about their hopes for the weeks to come. Ask them if they believe those hopes could be realized, based on what they have shared with you in response to previous questions.

Especially for deployment wives whose husbands serve in the reserve, feeling included and love is particularly difficult. There are a million resources for active duty and your neighborhood is filled with fellow deployment spouses whose husbands are serving with your own. The Church, in particular, must act as the wings of God's enfolding grace and care. And may God prosper the labors of His Church as she endeavors to do so, in the grace of and with gratitude for Christ!

A Sinner's Prayer

You who are of purer eyes than to see evil and cannot look at wrong, why do you idly look at traitors and remain silent when the wicked swallows up the man more righteous than he? (Hab. 1:13)

With complacent and callous heart, I pretend that You are not ever-present, ever-watchful--knowing the depths of my heart to an extent I cannot fathom.

I hide myself from Your gaze, revealing my foolishness, for where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are are there. If I make my bed in the depths, You are there.

I hide myself from Your gaze like my forebears in Eden, my own eyes cast down in shame. I grasp the truth of the Good News, but know little of its power.

If I were to truly consider You in the splendor of Your holiness, I would be undone. Your eyes are pure and will not look upon wrong. In your forbearance, You tolerate the traitor for a time, storing up the wrath that is fully justified in Your judgment.

I must meditate upon my Lord, who, on the night He was betrayed, then broke bread for His disciples and said "This is my body for you."

I must meditate upon my Savior, who, hearing the jeers of a treacherous humanity, cried out for their forgiveness--for my forgiveness.

He bears the pure eyes that belong to God alone, and with those eyes, for the joy set before Him, affixed His gaze upon the cross and endured its shame.

He knew Your holy demands--that Your pure character and righteous decrees would permit no sinner in your presence. So He became sin for me. He bore the purity of Your wrath.

He cried out to You, but You sat idly by as traitors mocked Your Son and the wicked swallowed up One more righteous than themselves. You remained silent as He cried out "My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?"

I know the answer, but I can't fathom it. Your Son was forsaken in my place. His perfect life was taken for my grace.

I cannot wait for the Day when the death that swallowed Him for three days is itself swallowed up in His victory.

I cannot wait for the Day when the truth of that victory--that my sins are truly nailed to the cross for all time--is brought to bear upon my naked heart and clothes it in the comfort of Christ.

Most Military Wives Have PTSD (or How to Care for Deployment Wives)

So today, a couple of soldiers in our unit built a small gingerbread village from a kit sent from a soldier's wife. Soon after, other sick American and Canadian soldiers from our unit descended on this peaceful village.

All jesting aside, the brave service members in our country do not wear a uniform, but support those who do. They invest in our security and freedom by loaning out their loved ones, standing by helpless while their loved ones stand in harm's way, and hold down the home front as well.

There is no one for whom war in harder that a military wife. In many ways, it is even harder for wives today than in previous conflicts. In the past, the loneliness and helplessness was only rarely broken up by letters from war. Today, the war spills over the phone lines every day. The stress and strain of a combat environment is often taken out upon the helpless, sacrificial hero at home.

And no, unless you have been a deployment bachelorette yourself, you have no idea how it feels. You cannot relate. You cannot make it better. (Leaving a partial exception for other family members.)

The line my wife hates the most with regard to Afghanistan is "Oh, we're still over there?" Such a comment betrays a callous indifference to the one percent or so of our country who drives around in armored vehicles on foreign soil, or anxiously awaits a vehicle filled with men in dress blues to come and ring the doorbell.

This is why most of the wives were breaking down at the recent Yellow Ribbon event. Theirs is a burden that no one else must carry. Theirs is terror that few others will ever experience. Theirs is a sacrifice that few will ever be called to make. (Again, it is easier to fight for your country than to relinquish your loved one to do so.) And again, no one can understand. Military wives must make peace with this fact and emotionally gird themselves. When they were finally surrounded with fellow home front heroes, they were finally safe to show their pain and heartache.

In that vein, here are several principles with regard to caring for a deployment wife:

1) Do not belittle their pain. One of the most heartless lines proffered to deployment spouses is "Well, what did you expect? Isn't this what he signed up for?" Yes, this is what soldiers sign up for and in the back of their minds, this is what wives expect. But we also marry, knowing that we both will eventually die. But we don't look the grieving widow in the eye and say "Well, what did you expect? Isn't this what you signed up for?"

2) Do not relativize their pain. I tend to be guilty of this one. I counter pain, depression, and pessimism with sun-shiny optimism. "Well, look how much you've grown!" "You know God has a purpose in all of this!" "I know this thing really hurts, but look at all these good things out there." There is no faster way to seal off the heart of the afflicted than to so casually dismiss their pain.

3) Do not "relate" to their pain. We often think we have an anecdote for any given situation that will help to show we are in the same boat. We sort through the library of our own experiences to pull out a book that we can hand off to make someone feel better. The reality is that no one can relate to a deployment wife unless their husband has been deployed or is captured or missing in a foreign land. "I know how you feel--it was really hard when my husband was away on business" does not suffice.

4) Do not criticize their pain. This is another one that implicates me. I tend to problem-solve my wife's pain. "If you are so busy, why don't you cut down on your activities?" "Don't complain about something that you could have avoided." I was soundly humbled in this regard recently. My wife, who has been swimming in profound thoughts since the deployment of her husband, wrote to me to explain why she can't relent from her busyness, even during a deployment.

On the one hand, every wife using busyness as a distraction to keep them from the Satan-spawned thoughts of death, loneliness, and life apart. But my wife, as a mother, added another thought in this regard. She wants our boy to have a normal first year of life. She wants to include him in the family Turkey Trot, or celebrate other family traditions like his future siblings will.

This line of thought reminded me of my mom, who despite our very poor upbringing, would always try to provide a very nice Christmas, with presents for every child. She would be criticized for wasting the little bit of money my parents had, but she was willing to do what others thought foolish if she thought it was in the best interests of her kids.

My wife is a hero. Most of her busyness is not due to work, but due to our son. She could cut some of this busyness, but she would rather lose sleep and be stressed than to give her son any less that what she feels she can offer for his betterment.

At the Yellow Ribbon event, the chaplain explained that most military wives have PTSD. Remember what I mentioned in a previous post. When we go into crisis mode, and stay there, it sometimes locks into place and replaces normal mode. Military wives go through a year of holding down the home front, tolerating callousness and indifference toward their plight, and wonder each day when that car might pull up at the door step.

Thankfully, for those in Christ, they have a God who spreads His wings over them in this time. He ministers to them in their loneliness. He tends to their frantic prayers offered in the middle of the night. He does not condemn or dismiss their misery, but offers the life and death of His suffering, dead, resurrected, and ascended Son as the vessel drawing peace and hope from grief.

A Needed LBR

One of the reasons I love being counseled on occasion is to have another set of eyes on my sin and my struggles. Having a spouse is great for that purpose as well. The nature of sin is such that we are often self-deceived about its existence and power in our lives.

So often, it takes a seemingly random occurrence (really, God's providence) to awaken us to the grip of sin on our hearts and minds. Such a moment came for me yesterday. Perhaps I was using working out to distract me from my struggles, but I set grossly unrealistic expectations for myself for my gym routine. I decided I was going to run a half marathon on a treadmill in two mile blocks, and between each block, I would work out a different muscle group. (This would've taken 3 hours, in retrospect.)

But I had not prepared for it all during the course of the workday, either mentally or with hydration or eating habits. I ran two miles, worked my shoulders, ran a much tougher two miles, and then barely worked my legs before I felt like I was out. It was light when I went outside, but everything inside was dark. A pessimistic thought pattern took hold that enabled me to fall into the old traps of generalizing my problem (this always happens), catastrophizing my problem (this is just my life), and personalizing my problem (this is who I am).

All of a sudden my mind was spinning with thoughts of how I will never be an Army Ranger, nor should I be one because I am a rotten chaplain who wouldn't help anyone anyway. I had gone Eeyore. I got back to my room and had no interest in showering but just sat on my bed for a long while. When the sweat dried, I put my uniform back on and went to finish a task or two in the office and grab my Nook (if I didn't have those motivations, I probably would've stayed in my room all night).

I started looking back over my life the past couple of weeks. I dreaded getting up early in the morning to pray with convoys before they departed, though I almost always went because it meant so much to them. I often wanted to be alone in my office and eat alone in the DFAC, and would silently resent those who broke the silence. And the brunt of my scorn was saved for the "knockers," those who don't know the code to our building and knock on our door, and because I work next to the door, I usually have to go open it. It seems to often happen when I'm trying to focus on something. Each knock pierced me and made me angry. Even when I return home, in my mind, there'll probably be a special place reserved in Maryland for those who knock on my door.

My bout of the blues yesterday was preceded the night before by a general feeling of heaviness I just couldn't shake. I guess this is what happens when your normal run-of-the-mill depressive episodes are intermingled with the added strain of being deployed.

I also examined what I haven't done for my self-care in recent weeks. I have not taken an LBR (low battle rhythm--a couple of hours off) in several weeks. I have not been particularly prayerful in my reading of God's Word. I have not been preaching God's Word to my own heart before I preach it to others (my mentor pastor sent out a nice reminder to do that the other day). I have not listened to sermons online in several weeks. And I had allowed these problems to fester, in large part because I was unaware and in part because I was not utilizing the God-given tools to be made more aware.

Now I am more aware, by God's grace. I took an LBR today between the morning service and Operation Outreach (our volunteer work). I went to the Green Bean, used a gift card generously donated by a family of friends in California (and got an Espresso Chai Latte with ground cinnamon on top--my favorite) and read Game of Thrones for several hours.

(Parents: Do not let your children read the books. The author is a master storyteller and they represent the height of modern fiction, but unlike Harry Potter and The Hunger Games, there are quite a few scenes that would be inappropriate for unmarried young adults, let alone children.)

I also will make a point to listen to a sermon (or two) online this week to force my wandering heart to sit still under the preaching of the Gospel of grace and savor the beauty of my Christ. The Rev. Rob Norris once said that unlike the common line of thinking, we often need do ourselves into feeling, not feel ourselves into doing. I can't wait for my desires to catch up. I will re-devoted myself to means of grace that God has provided, and trust that by Word and Spirit, He will work in me to will and work according to His good pleasure.