Joshua 1:9

Joshua 1:9
Yes, this is the verse I finally chose to put on my 'while he is away' necklace charm.  Just a simple piece to wear while my son is at boot to remind me to "pray continually", and to keep me ever thinking on this passage of scripture.

It makes it cool that his name happens to be Joshua as well, so the scripture reference plays double duty for this mom in particular. 

I also decided that I needed to get that verse memorized; in my head and in my heart!!!
So, I also went on a search to find a graphic to use as my cell phone screen saver. My phone is constantly in front of my eyeballs, so it is a great way to get scripture in. 
I wanted the colors and visual flow of the words to be just right because I have to look at it all the time, and I am picky about such things....being an artist myself. 

I looked and looked, trying to find just the right thing and I wanted it to read just like I had taken the time to put it to memory in the past. I hate to admit it, but it was the short version, likely because of the song with the same theme.
  "Be strong and courageous, do not fear, for the Lord goes before you."

However, that is NOT entirely what the verse says.  Why did I never see it before, but now it stands out so very clearly in the phase of my life?  Well, it is another evidence to me, how important it is to keep putting the word of God in!  The different parts of your life, bring out things that maybe were not pressing before.

Here is the fullness of the verse, from the NIV
"Have I not commanded you?"

Ummmm, I am just gonna have to stop right there, because that is the part that keeps getting to me!!! 
"Have I not commanded you?"
"Have I not commanded you?"
 The simple question put before Joshua, who is set to lead the people of Israel to conquer the promised land.
And what was it He was commanding??
Be strong. Be courageous. Obey my laws. Do not turn to the right or to the left. Do not be afraid.  Do not be discouraged.
And then He repeats it all over again in different words.  And then He says....Have I not commanded you? and then repeats it all again in a concise little package. 
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.


And I foolishly realize, it isn't a suggestion....this not being afraid or discouraged thing.  It is a command.  Not only does he expect it of us, he also gives us fodder for why we CAN accomplish it!!!! 

"...the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."

I got this necklace with this verse, as a reminder to pray it FOR my son, and took the long road to realizing it was ME who needed the verse.  ME who needed the lesson of submission, ME who needs to not be afraid or discouraged.  Ohhhh, I am sure my kiddo needs it too, but I had no idea that *I* needed it so badly too. 

Now don't get me wrong, I am having my emotional ups and downs.  I am a momma with normal concerns and definitely have some trust issues with what the Marine Corps is going to do to my son in the process of shaping him to be a part of the few, the proud. It is a sure struggle balancing the feelings of letting go, with those of full trust.  I am pretty certain it is quite possible to have both of those exist at the same time, while processing this huge adjustment.  I do believe it is the letting go of the fear and doubt and worry that puts me in line with following this command.
Frankly.....I have stunk at it so far. 

You know another one that keeps calling me out as well???  1 Thes 5:16-18
"Be joyful in all things.  Pray continually.  Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus"


UGH!!!  WOW, what a thing to work toward. 
 So, this is me.  Not doing awesome at these things, but keeping them close to my heart and working on them each day. 


60 more days to go, plenty of time for practice!!! 

 

The wait

If I had to describe these last four weeks, his first month away....it would be like this.  It is the only thing that even comes close. Once again I am writing quickly with a small amount of time to accomplish the task, so it will be what it will be.  I woke up this morning with this realization.

The first day of kindergarten.  Whoa, I remember the thrill and dread of getting my kid ready for that new adventure in his life!!  I knew it was coming, and it either felt like the time was rushing by like a freight train, or that it was crawling, as I did my best to get them ready for the big send off.

Do you remember that first day??  When the ball of anxiety settled down into the pit of your stomach, and you knew it was going to be there all day long.  NOT because you didn't think they could make it, but because you knew they could.
However, obsessive thoughts poured through your mind all day long. Were they happy, were they sad?  Will they start to get hungry before it was snack time.  Was the person that sat next to them nice?  Did they feel confident enough to ask for help if they needed it? Were they scared? Did they miss you?  All of that racing through your brain after the tears stop, but before you even get out of the parking lot from dropping them off.
Do you remember how you slugged through that day?  Your child ever on your mind, constant checking on your watch to see how many hours were left in the day.  And the wondering, always the wondering of how they were doing.  Did they wear the right clothes, were their new shoes hurting their feet?  Did he have enough to eat at lunch...did he even eat his lunch?  Was he brave or too shy?  All day long, the questions going unanswered.
  All day long the minutes seeming like hours. 
All day long the back and forth of pride in them and longing for them.  Do you remember how it made your heart seem to hurt...that crazy combination of pride and longing?

Will they pay attention to bring home all they need.  Will they be alert enough to catch the right bus? Will the bus be fun or terrifying? 
Pit in your stomach, swollen heart hurting, tears.... all to ready for an excuse to show themselves as you continued the torture of waiting.....and it was only half day kindergarten!!!!! 
It was so close to being obsessed with something, without it being creepy because it is your kid after all. 

Then you heard it.  The unmistakable rumbling sound of the bus. Then the squeal of the brakes that seem to be a direct correlation with every bus ever made.  You see the movement of a shape, making its way down the aisle, and your breath catches in your throat because you know.... you know that it is your kid!!!  They must look down to keep their footing sure on those huge bus steps, but when their feet hit the pavement, that is the moment they look up and you can see that precious face.
The wait was over, there was your baby back within your sites....and you could breathe normally again. 

 Yes, I would say that is what these last 4 weeks have been like.
 62 more days.  8 more Saturdays. 2 months until that face is in my sights again and I can breathe normally. 

Until then I am working on that pit in my stomach, and the swell in my heart.  I know he is where he wants to be, and I couldn't be more proud of his choice.
Waiting and waiting until my feet are standing on the pavement at MCRD, and I can finally look at that boy of mine.  He won't even slightly resemble that little 5 year old coming off of the bus, and won't it be awesome!!!

Departure: Part 2

The further away this event gets, the less I can recall....so it is an early morning writing time for me even though I have lots else to accomplish. 

So I left off in my last post at the summons to round the corner since our kids would be swearing in soon.  We got to slip past the "Do not pass this point" sign, and lingered with other nervous family members waiting for specific instructions.  We were told once again that photographs were allowed in this room and this room only of this building. 
(Ugh, talk about a struggle for this Momtographer!!)  We were given instructions with his strong clear voice on what was expected of us.  It was obvious that he had spoken these words to the masses many times, but he still gave them with care and precision.   

The door was then opened and we were allowed into the room where our children were already standing, lined in rows facing a narrow stage with a podium.  Each flag of all the military branches were lined up evenly across that stage, and it was silent and still.  It was a small room, filled already halfway with our kids standing at the ready, facing firmly forward and unable to make eye contact as we filed in.  I was afraid to breathe too deeply and disturb the austere feeling that had been created in the room. 

Another man dressed in (what my husband tells me was) a Navy officer uniform, entered the room and closed the door.  I loved his voice, it was deep and kind in this strange place.  We were told very specifically that we could move about in the rear of the room, but when they raised their hand for the oath we were to remain stationary. Deep breath in and out, I could already feeling the emotions becoming too much for me as I tried to jockey for position behind other family members to get a decent photo of of the back of my son.


I had my big camera at the ready as well as my cell phone and tried to snap quietly...but let's face it, it was just a photo of their backs.  You get what you get, and I was thankful my guy was in the back and tall!  Then the kind voiced Navy man told us that this group swearing in was large, and had been divided in half, therefore there was room on the stage for one and only one member of each family to come forward and stand on the narrow stage to be able to see these kids from the front as they took their oath. 
I did not want to go.  I just could not do it.  I was already a mess because of an empty chair, and after days of trying to contain my tears the stress of it was welling up to unbearable levels.  I knew that it would be too much for me and I panicked because I also knew that my husband takes the worst cell phone pictures in the history of ever, and my big camera settings are too complicated for almost anyone to decipher. (back button focus the worst culprit of them all) I could let me husband go and risk having no images what so ever, or I could go and risk loosing it in front of the whole room.  All of this racing through my head as my husband has his tender hand in the center of my back urging me forward.  I looked at him and may or may not have eked out the words "I can't" with tears already forming but he still pressed me and got my legs moving ahead. 
I don't even remember taking the few steps that it took to get to the stage, but I kept my head down and got there somehow and settled between the red headed fiance, and a lady and her young daughter; who they kindly made and exception on the one family member rule for.  I tried to make myself small and raised my head and my phone to snap a photo. 

I knew, of course I knew exactly where he was standing and it took one subtle movement of my head to get to where I could look at him.  At that precise second in time he was looking at me, maybe it was intended, perhaps it was just habit.... seeking out what was familiar, but our eyes met. 
And y'all, it took my breath away. It was love and pain, pride and disbelief.  It occurs to me, just now typing this, that it was exactly how I felt the very first time I laid eyes on him.  They had placed his tiny body on my chest for the first time after hours of labor and there before me was the evidence of  goodness, worth my long struggle and so much pain.
Once again I was totally and completely smitten with the blonde headed boy who first made me a mom, who caused my heart to quadruple in size, whose future once again was all before him....and it was uncertain but full of possibility. 
How could this child, my child be standing there looking like a man, about to swear his allegiance to this country that we love. 
I inhaled all of those emotions and feelings and quickly looked right back down at the blue carpet beneath my feet, because I knew the exhale was not gonna be pretty.  And it wasn't.
Try as I might, I was overwhelmed and the sobs began.  The kind where you attempt to keep them contained and end up making those weird internal sounds, that could only be restrained sobs.   I was mortified that this moment of all of those in my whole existence was the time that I could not hold it together.  I did not want to be standing there at all, I wanted to take my shaking, crying self and get out of there, and the panic hit again.
But, I wanted even more to be able to stand there proudly and watch that son of mine make this crazy important commitment. More deep breaths and staring at the carpet.   I could not look directly at him, so I tried to switch my focus to the words the man was speaking and through the tears, put myself to work to get a decent photo of it all. 

The speech the Navy man gave was about the seriousness of the commitment, about stating the words of the oath firmly without mumbling, about the pride of serving our nation. In between all of that, he took time to give these kids of ours a firm and serious order.  He said "Your family will want to take photos now and when we are done.  You WILL stand for those photos and you WILL smile for those photos, because your family needs that.  They will need those photos to get them through these long weeks ahead.  That is an order, do you understand??"  In unison the answered "Yes Sir".
That man...oh that man, I thank him for that...but oh it had me crying again knowing that my son is one that would have a time putting that order into action. 

I unashamedly wiped my nose on my sleeve, and got back to the business of being busy.  He called them to attention and the oath began.  I quickly clicked the record button on my phone and tried to take in every word. 
Here is what they said. 
"I, _____, do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God."

They were then ushered out of the room to sign final paperwork, and we were ushered into the hall to wait for them.  One by one they came out, finding the familiar faces to connect with.  We quickly swept our son in another awkward embrace, telling him of our pride in his choice.  So much of the dread that seemed to hang over the group seems to have disappeared once this task was complete.  I was thankful for a relief of that as we sat waiting for what would be next. 

We spent another hour, making small talk trying to fill the time before my husband and I would leave.  I handed my son a few mints and the last couple of sticks of gum that I had, hoping the compression of the plane would not bother him to badly.  Hoping when his stomach was empty again that those mints would bring a bit of relief.  Hoping that he would remember how much we loved him and how strongly we believed in him and his choices.  Hoping I could make it through the final goodbye and out of the building without the ugly cry again. 

The time came for him to go.  He grabbed his bag from the check in area, and we stood close together at the end of that hallway which had cleared dramatically in the previous few minutes. 
What was there to say that hadn't already been said?
We tried though, and repeated the same words of love and advice spoken so often in the past few days. 
He assured me that he would write soon, when he had time.
His daddy then pulled us in close and said "I am going to pray, then we are going to go." I am sure this was as much for him as it was for me. 
I don't remember the words, but I know the heart of my husband and his trust in our Lord, so most likely it was just perfect. 

I snuck in one last squeeze to this non hugger boy of mine, grasped the hand of my love as we walked away and did not turn back.  I made it about 10 minutes down the highway before fully giving way to the tears, that could no longer be contained. 

This post, it is sorely lacking in expressing the breadth and width and height of emotion of that day but it is the best I could do in the small amount of time I have given myself to accomplish it.  At least the basic out line is here for me to return to it, should I ever get the desire. 
I cannot bear to read over it again for mistakes needing to be fixed, so it is what it is. 

As for our horse picture of the post...here ya go!  Surely I don't need to explain. 

Departure, part 1

There are things that I want to remember about this day, little details that were so vivid at the time that made my heart alternately race and seize up. 

I woke at 4:30 and lay in bed until 4:45.  It was pointless to continue in the farce of attempting to sleep and I was ready to sip some coffee, so I got up and puttered quietly about the house.  I chose to forgo mascara, seriously...why even??
7a.m. we hit the road to head into downtown Houston, thankful for the HOV lane to get us through the bulk of traffic.  Except at that point in time where it was almost to a standstill.  It actually made me giggle heartily when we came to the reason.
There were two cops standing in the middle of the road, enforcing the high occupancy thing.  One was a large stern man, practically halting people with his disappointed stare.  He made me feel bad and we weren't even guilty of anything.  He would peer into each car, give a look of frank disgust then signal the perpetrator to head over to see his equally disappointed cohort, who was at the ready with his ticket pad.   They were quite a team.
This delay did make us nervous that we would not arrive by 8:30, which is when our son's recruiter suggested we be there. 
Thankfully we eased into a parking garage just across the street from MEPS at 8:24, and hoofed it to the building in haste.  There were 3 guards working the front entry, and our cute parental selves, camera in tow, made the question "Are you here to see a child swear in?" the obvious one to ask.  The fella working the metal detector gave us his likely ever ready speech...which basically said, you are here way to early, nothing of interest even happens until 10a.m. He invited us to come back closer to 9:30 and set back to the business at hand for people who did belong there. 

Well, what were we to do??  We stepped out onto the front steps and spoke with an adorable red headed gal who had just gotten the same basic speech, except she was there to see her fiance off.  She was so young, and I was proud of how composed she seemed to be.

  She was kind enough to snap a photo of us, with the old government issue grey building in the background with my cell, then we were off to try to find a comfortable place to kill an hours worth of time. 
We walked a few blocks of downtown Houston, it was clean but noisy and hectic as cities are want to be.  The air was thick and there was a deep heavy fog that was slowly climbing the walls of the taller buildings, though no sunshine was allowed in.  In the distance we spotted what looked to be a diner, but much to our chagrin was in fact a bar, not yet open for the day.  Luckily, right next door was Ben's Beans a kitschy tall ceiling-ed place with the smell of coffee wafting out.  A friendly gal greeted us behind the counter and insisted that yes she could in fact whip up a flat white for me.  She was great at her job, making people feel comfortable when they came in to be served.  She wondered why we were about, and we told her.  She recalled how she remembered very vividly the day her brother joined the Army, it still gave her chills to recall it. 

Floor to ceiling, deep red were the walls, covered with art work that looked like it had been donated from the local college discard pile.  My husband and I sipped our coffee, trying to enjoy the time but there was an uneasiness about us, that was undeniable.  Not with each other, no we have known too many trying moments together to have them come between us, no it was knowing what was to come for our son. 
We carried our cups back to the counter and the gal wished us well, walking away to clean off a table.  She stopped turned around and called out, "What is your son's name, I will pray for him tonight. I will pray for him and for you."  My husband replied "Joshua, and we thank you.", and I choked back tears again for the hundredth time, unable to reply.

The guards back at MEPS recognized us and hustled us through the metal detector and checking in process, and let us know to go to the third floor where we could be checked into security.  I found out that this building was finished in 1911.  Built to be a courthouse and post office in the classic Renaissance Revival style it still had the broad beams of warm oak around the doorways, grey marble floors and plaster work above each window.  It was dreary, in a way that old government buildings are want to be, but it had character and beauty because of its age and the style we are no longer accustomed to. 

We signed into the official log book, and entered the long chair lined hallway in search of our son.  We found him tucked in a corner of one of the USO rooms designated for gaming.  Young men sprawled low in chairs fully focused on whatever military shooting game happened to be in the box at the time.  I did not take it in very carefully, because there he was, hunched over a book....intent on escape of reality. 
He joined us in that long hallway and we took to a few of those chairs lining those walls. 

I wish I had to words to clearly describe the atmosphere. Young men and women, a parent or loved one on either side of them up and down that hall.  Men in different uniforms back and forth, looking stern and walking with purpose.  Sweet little old ladies there for the USO, decorating doorways for fall and delivering danishes for the recruits. 
There was an energy, a contained energy that seemed to hang at a low hum.  There was a sense of trepidation, a stillness... even though there was movement all about.  Each kid seemed to be both highly focused, and yet not focused at all....it was tiring just to be there in the same space. 

I waited as long as I could, but knew that I was going to have to give up a few moments of being in his presence so that I could take a bathroom break. Oh yes, classic me.  I set my camera and bag in my selected black chair and took off, knowing I had at least 10 minutes until the oath taking ceremony before I would need to be back and at attention. 

When I returned, his chair was empty.  My husband quickly explained that he had simply been called back for some sort of briefing.  Y'all....I am sad to say that in that very moment I had a melt down.  I came around the corner and he was supposed to be there.  He was not.   He was supposed to be sitting in that chair, slumped over holding his bible and his book, uncomfortable in his own skin but there for me to sit next to, and he was not.  I just could not bear it, this simple thing of a chair being empty, and the quiet sobs began.  My poor husband assured me that he was not gone forever, he just was gone for a few moments, not to be upset... it was ok.   I knew all of that, but still the tears came and I was ashamed at not being able to control myself at something so trivial as a temporarily empty chair. 

The next thing I heard was the loud strong voice of a military man giving instructions on what was to come, then calling out for the families of specific boys.  Ours was the second name called, so we rose and followed the hallway and around the corner to the doorway of the room where the oath taking would take place.

This has gotten long, so it will be a part 1 and part 2 kind of story.
I leave you with this gal, Lady.  She was none too happy that we had just taken her best buddy from the pasture and was running about with her ears pinned back and calling out desperately. 

There's within my heart a melody

 I am not one to remember passages of words, but put a bit of music to something and it sticks with me forever more.  I like to bring out a good oldie every once in a while to crack up my kids.
Like this one....
"Oh I wish I were an Oscar Myer wiener, that is what I'd really like to be.  Cause if I were an Oscar Myer wiener, then everyone would be in love with me."
I mean truly, just how much value does that add to my life to be able to remember that from 30 some years ago?? 
 I know not everyone is hard wired this way... my poor husband can barely remember a tune from week to week.  He has other strengths so I don't hold it against him. hee hee

So, yeah I love music and singing.  I have my radio set to our local christian radio station and get that constant dose of encouragement all day long. 

Our church family has one of the icons of a cappella music, hymnology, and music history to lead us in worship, so a meeting time never goes by that I am not either deeply encouraged or deeply moved...or both. 
Funerals and weddings are historically tough for me to get through, when we have congregational singing, but these last few weeks in worship time have really been a booger.

Once again it is twofold.
We have something really special at our congregation.  The singing is amazing.  It has SO much to do with our leadership and his passion, but also with the blending of voices in praise and worship in wonderful four part harmony.  The simplicity, yet complexity of that...well you just have to have experienced it to get it. 
I have warned my children for many years that what we have in our church family (in many parts of it, not just the singing) is special and unique.  There is a fire and passion for God's word here.  We are encouraged from every side to delve into the word, to learn it...to love it. 
Those things that my son has been raised on, will not be available to him any longer. 

The other reason is that I believe so strongly in the words.  The truth is undeniable, and it is then set to music which stirs your emotions and makes it easy to bring along with you and keep at the ready. 

These are a few songs that have thankfully been on my heart, and that I will go back to time and again to find comfort and strength in. 

The first is actually my club song from my time at Harding University.  If you click on the link, you can hear the Harding Choir singing it, exactly as it plays in my mind. 

"Prince of peace control my will. Bid this struggling heart be still.  Bid my fears and doubting cease, hush my spirit into peace."

"When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul."  


"He has been mindful of his servant, he has been mindful of me. I will be blessed forever, forever. I will be blessed by the Lord."

"Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing you pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name"

"When you pass through the fire I will be with you,
And the flames they will not overcome you.
Do not fear for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by name.
You are mine."

"Be strong and courageous and do not be afraid.  The Lord goes with you each and every day. He'll never forsake you."

"When upon life's billows you are tempest tossed. When you are discouraged thinking all is lost, count your many blessings angels will attend.  Help and comfort give you to your journeys end."

"Great is thy faithfulness, Oh God my father.  There is no shadow of turning with thee.  Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not. As thou hast been, thou forever will be. Great is thy faithfulness."

"You are my strength when I am weak, you are the treasure that I seek.  You are my all in all."

And many, many more.

I began this post the Friday before he left.  I am finishing it on the second day he has been gone.  I NEEDED to read this post this morning, hear these truths and get these songs playing on a loop.
My next post will be about our time seeing him off. 

Here is my horsey image of the post!  We live in the Piney Woods of Texas, so the sky is a rare thing in my images.  I found that with my short lens and the horses at just the right spot in a new pasture it was possible.  I had to lay on the ground and it made me uncomfortable, but I got it accomplished. 
It is a reminder to look for ways to find that perspective to keep you moving in the right direction, keep looking 'up'. 

Grief

      Well, it is almost 11A.M. on the first Saturday of November and I am waiting for my son to return from the regularly scheduled workout at the local recruiting station. 

I am anxious to hear about the proper procedure for next Sunday when he will head to the hotel near the MEPS station to check in for shipping off.
I did find out (contrary to what I had thought....oh my communicator son that he is) (sarcasm) that we take him to the recruiters office that day, and they deliver him there. 

We did revisit the conversation about going that Monday morning to watch him take his final oath, and it was decided that we would in fact go!!!  Eeeeeeek, Major mom victory there.  I want to have at least that mental picture of what he looks like and how he holds himself that day, in comparison with when we get to see him once again at graduation.  Now I didn't say that I wasn't going to bring my camera, because I am, but I will try to be stealthy.  Ninja like.  Silent but deadly. 
And y'all, please please please please start praying now that I can hold it together that day.

It seems that the more I want to be able to get a hold of my emotions the harder it is.  I try not to put myself in situations where I will be broadsided by things that may trigger the tears.
AKA almost everything in life.  HA!!
The truth is, when I get up and get moving in the morning, I am usually just fine.  When I get in my van to get busy with errands, I am ok.  I may have a moment or two with a special song on the radio, but most of the time I can just sing along and enjoy!  (yeah to KSBJ, our local christian station)  But when it hits me that I have to go and be with people, that is when the panic begins to creep in on me.
When it is people who love me, the fear gets greater. 
You know why right?
Those people that love me, are going to ask me how I am doing.  They are going to ask how long it is until he leaves.  They are going to wonder how my other kiddos are doing, and if I am planning anything special before he goes.  It is an all out assault on my resolve to not let the emotions overwhelm. 
I want to choose when to be out of control about it, and the gentle prodding of those questions get to me immediately like a dagger to the heart.  I am doomed before I even try to speak. 
I think the secret is lead in conversation time before getting to those questions; so that they flow naturally from the conversation and not what begins communication. 


I KNOW people mean well.  I know that they are not thinking about how volatile I feel.  I know that like me, in times of not really knowing what to say, they just say the first thing that comes to mind.  They make comparisons and try to find similarities.
Those words meant to give comfort are often those that hurt the most; especially when someone is grieving. 
Have no doubt about it, when a parent is sending their child into the world, there is grief there.  What a proud culmination of 18 or more years of labor, to see them head off to follow those dreams.  It has been so eye opening to talk to fellow moms who have already sent their kiddos off to college, and see the loss they are coping with.  The dreams around here just happen to involve immediate drastic separation, danger and self sacrifice.  That is quite overwhelming to this particular mom!!

People naturally want to help ease that burden, and words are an easy way to do it. 
They are also the easiest way to hurt someone.....and most often without intent!!!

I learned SO much about words and their impact this last summer when two of my dearest friends were facing major tragedies in their lives in the very same week.  I have never wanted to punch so many people in the face in such a short amount of time...haha, not that that is an action I would choose, it is just an expression.
  So many well meaning words spoken that just cut to the quick over and over again.  And, actions meant to be helpful that only caused more 'work' at surviving.
WE are all guilty of it, but WE all need to really SLOW down and be mindful of what we are saying and doing.  We need to put forth a major effort at maturity, and truly take the time to learn how we can best serve others when they are in the middle of a struggle.
  I suppose it has been something I have been meaning to express for some time, and now is as good a time as any to get it written out. 

I would say first and foremost:
When you have not personally been in a situation, you CANNOT know how it feels. Don't try to compare your situation to theirs.  Even a shred of similarity degrades the specifics of what is causing their current struggle. 

Second:
When someone is in the big fat middle of a loss or pain; instead of trying to come up with words to try to make it better, choose an action, that can show your love.  Cook a meal and deliver it, without expectation of conversation or being entertained. Fill a grocery list, purchase a gas card, go sweep their floor or feed their dog, or put in a load of laundry. 
Send a text that simply says I love you, or I have just prayed for you....and don't expect a response.  Don't repeat old and tired platitudes that seem to be good advice, but cannot heal.

Third:
You don't be the one to lead in the conversation about the hurt, let the hurting one choose when to talk about it, and how much they want to talk about it.  It lets them be in control of those emotions that are so overwhelming. 

Fourth:
If you say you are going to pray for someone, then do it.  Do it often, and communicate to them that you are, dependent upon their comfort level. 

Fifth:
Be quiet.  Ask for the Lord to guide your words, and choose them well.

Sixth:
Don't put out generic..."If there is anything I can do to help, you let me know." 
Because they can't, which means they won't. DO something.  Fill specific needs.  
Above all, do but don't expect.  Do because you can and you want to, without trying to fill your need for being appreciated or even thanked.

Seventh:
Do not try to dig for the big scoop.  Don't demand details, or yearn to know the rest of the story.  Don't let you human need to know what is going on, override your mission to serve. 



YMMV, as they say.  Your Mileage May Vary on putting some of these suggestions to work.  Every person is different with different pressure points and levels of comfort.  We are never gonna be able to do it just right, but we can sure make the effort at trying.  We CAN get better at being a light and a comfort, but y'all it takes specific heartfelt effort.

Once again, I did not begin this post with the words in mind and it took on a life of its own, even steering far away from my particular journey at this time.  I am cool with it though; words that have been on my heart, and some that I will share with my kiddos in hopes that they will be better at this way sooner in life than me.

I leave you with this image.  Comfort is being given, and received.  Maybe someday I will tell you the story. 

Honor

I am proud to report that I am crying less!!
Ohhhh I don't think that is going to last!!  Nope, no it won't. 
Goodness just thinking about getting through the local annual Veterans Day celebration, starts to make me twitch. I volunteered to help this year, instead of just attending.  Perhaps being busy will help me keep my composure.  Naaaaah, I doubt it. 
I recall my first attendance to this celebration back in 2011.  My firstborn was a freshman, and a member of our high school Airforce JrROTC.  The whole experience of seeing him in uniform was so shiny and new.  You better believe that I would absolutely go out of my way to be able to see him, especially en masse with other cadets.  Yes, I sheepishly admit it...that was my major motivation for being there that day. 

If you know me at all, it won't surprise you that I also had my camera handy.  I was still very shy with it at the time, (ha who am I kidding I am still shy with my camera in public situations), but wanted it handy. 

Despite how I have been acting lately, I genuinely don't tend to get outwardly emotional over too many things. My life taught me to be guarded and to keep my external show of emotion in check. I think also it is a manifestation of my introvert self. 
The point that I am trying to get to here is.... this day, even looking from the 'outside' in, was very touching.  There is special seating for the veteran's that participate in the ceremony.  They take the time to acknowledge each branch of the military, asking them to stand and be recognized.  The national anthem is played, planes fly over, flags are in abundance!  It puts a lump in your throat feeling that American pride!! 

It was also quite depressing, in that it seemed like a paltry number of people who were actually in attendance.  The bulk of them school students who were just glad to be out of the classroom for awhile.  Perhaps they had been told of the seriousness of the event, but caught up in the cool air and bit of freedom they tended to border disrespect for much of the time.   Hey, I wasn't much better though my maturity and love of country had me standing and placing my hand over my heart at the right times. 

No doubt I was distracted by so many things going on around me, taking in the fine details and special moments, as I am want to do.  A particular older man caught my eye when his wheel chair was pushed up close to the bleacher rail so he could have a better view.  He looked to be unshaven, scruffy; his coat wrinkled and stained.  He slumped a bit in his chair, likely, to escape the strong cold wind that was blowing.  I couldn't help but let my eyes wander back to him occasionally, not because he was doing anything in particular to catch my attention;  I suppose I just wondered what his story might be.

 Now there comes a point in time in each ceremony when all of the speeches and festivities conclude, the flags are brought back to attention and are carried one final lap around the stadium.
This man who I had been watching, well he began to struggle in his chair.   Feeble and slow, his arms shook as he pushed himself to his feet.  His timing was impeccable and he was fully, and proudly standing, by the time the United States flag crossed his path. 
He stood that way for a long, long time.  Honor was given.  It was beautiful.
It got a bit more personal in that moment as this one individual did what he had to do to give honor and respect. 

I have been back every year.  I LOVE it.  I love everything about it.  The humble and proud veterans scattered through the audience.  The chairs lined up with those who are in a place of honor to fulfill a ceremony.  The baby face cadets from the JrROTC programs from all the local schools.  The patriotic flags waving.  The school band and choir performances of our beloved American songs.
The very, 'in your face' reminder that people have made the choice and sacrifice to serve.
Hundreds of young men and women who give a huge chunk of the 'best years of their lives' for this country that we love. 
Young men who have families that love them, and know they are choosing a life that may very well put them in danger, not just once but over and over again.  Boys who are thrust into manhood, by their commitment to service, who give up the luxuries of home.  Our children who willingly surrender comforts, so that others won't have to.

 These boys who grow to be old men, who still know what it is to stand proudly before the flag of our nation.

Yes, this year attending this event will be different.
I see so many things with a new twist these few short years later. 
And, yes this family will take the time at the dinner table to talk about this very special day; why it is important and why our Veterans deserve the honor. 
And we will say another prayer for our boy, and this path he is choosing. 

I didn't begin this post with an ending, so I am pondering my silly requirement of a horse image for the end. 
I settled on this!

Pacing the fence

Man, I have delayed writing this post for a good week.  I want it to be more than it is, but I can not get there.  So it is what it is. 

I have been super emotional these last few weeks.  It comes in waves, rolling in and out sometimes leaving me gasping for air.
There are two specific things at work in that. 
1. My son is heading off to the Marines.  2. My son is heading off to the Marines. 

I *think* I am settling into the idea of the first one.  I mean, it is the Marines...there is a specific expectation there of what it will be like. 
  Frankly the training sounds a whole lot like being the mom of a baby and a toddler at the same time.
No seriously....
• someone is always screaming at you 
• you were so busy all day taking care of assorted demands that you barely ate
• you get woken at ridiculous hours to do all sorts of ridiculous things
• you are pushed to the edge of sanity from lack of sleep
• your body is extended to its limits with the pack of stuff needed to support the needs of the masses
See, just add in some push-ups, a hike or two, and a uniform....no biggie!!! 
If I can survive the mom years, he can survive bootcamp!!

Of course I know that is a gross over simplification of the very serious demands put on these young people, but the over all point is..... it is doable.  Hundreds of people have proven that since 1775!
They have a system and it works.  I finally gotten to the point where I genuinely believe it will be great for my kid. (In some ways, not all ways but that is another post)
Now don't get me wrong, it has taken quite some time, but I have had months to process it and get settled into it.  Oh yes, it is a far cry from the panic attack and rage of tears after leaving him at the recruiting station for the first time.  I don't want to be that person anymore.  I know it is the path he wants to take, and I want to fully support him in that, despite my feeeeeelings on the matter as his mom.

Now let's take a closer look at the second on the list. Unfortunately it begins to bleed over into the first by design of the USMC.
My son is heading off.  My firstborn son is leaving our home.  The child who made me a mommy, had to live through my mistakes, the one who made my heart literally quadruple in size the day he was born is setting off to fly.  Those are all amazing things for him, it means he has gotten to where we wanted him to be, and there is joy there.

However, it also means when I holler that supper is ready, only two sets of footfalls will now be heard rumbling down the stairs. When we gather for prayer time in the evening as we have for...well forever,  there will be no more of the oldest child starting it off.  On Sunday morning, I will now wake up two children instead of three.  Someone else will call shotgun when running to the van, someone else will eat the last cookie, someone else will be hassling the dog. And on and on and on with the things that make our crazy crew, just us.
 There is going to be a gaping hole in this house, in this HOME.

 We are a unit, a team, a FAMILY and 1/5 of it is about to be GONE.

 I KNOW that it is how it is supposed to go.  I know that it is the natural progression of life to see those babies leave the nest.  I know it, but it doesn't make it any less hard to figure out how to deal with.
And on top of it, in case you didn't know....there is no easing into the transition with phone calls and visits and care packages, no skype or email, not even a text.
No, it is more like severing a limb.

This is how it will go...to the best of my knowledge.
We tell him goodbye Sunday the 15th of November in downtown Houston where he is required to spend the night. Ya know with all the stuff he packed. 
At some point the next day, he will swear a final oath to the Marines, take a flight to San Diego and then a bus to arrive at bootcamp.
We will get ONE phone call.  He has to read (most likely shout along with the other fellas who are also calling home) something like this. 
“I have arrived safely at MCRD San Diego. Please do not send any food or bulky items. I will contact you in 3 to 5 days via postcard with my new mailing address. Thank you for your support. Goodbye for now.”
Then nothing.  For 13 weeks.
Unless he writes.  (Please, oh please oh please let him write)
Then it will be weeks and weeks of your child being put through a ton of things that you as a parent have tried to protect them from.  You know they won't get enough sleep or food.  You know they will have a constant strain on their confidence. You know they will be pushed beyond what they think their limits are.  You know day in and day out they will likely be in pain in some way or another.  And it is the path they are choosing.  And you know that you can't do a single thing about it.  AND you know that you aren't meant to do a single thing about it. 
The 'job' that started April of '97 has just given me two weeks notice. Sigh.

Lord willing he will graduate, have 10 days leave and then be off to Infantry training, then his specific job training. 

When you have a healthy, sweet, Godly family who love each other with this heading your way, I think you should have the expectation of some pretty strong emotions. 
 I don't want people to tell me it is going to be okay, because right now it is just stinkin' overwhelming. 

Did I mention he won't be home for Thanksgiving or Christmas??  Yeah :(

I almost forgot my picture. 
I choose this one of Riskey.  The end of last year, she miscarried her foal; she was a little over halfway through her pregnancy.  The baby had to be taken away, and she paced and paced this fence calling out, knowing something just wasn't right, but powerless to change it. 

 

What to pack

Remember back in the day, when it took 3 days to pack for a trip and a vehicle almost as big as a tank to haul it all??? Thankfully those days are long gone for my family!
Well I am not quite ready to delve into my next more serious post so I will leave for you here the "official" ;) Marine Corps Bootcamp packing list. 
Since we don't need glasses or have any prescriptions, our list is even shorter.

• The clothes on your back
• No more than $20.00 cash
• Identification
Optional:
• A religious item

I kinda can't get past the lack of TOOTHBRUSH on this list. 

I asked my son to talk to his recruiter about this particular glaring hygiene issue.  ASAP

Like with most things lately, he just gave me half a grin, shook his head and mumbled an incoherent response. 

I think I am gonna have to call that recruiter myself.  #helicoptermom

Please, y'all know I am joking about the calling right??? 
 
 Not about the packing list though!! 
Easiest packing ever!!

It all started with a cake!!

So there I was in the grocery store last Saturday afternoon.  I specifically remember that my list included eggs and bananas, but the rest of it is a blur. Of course knowing me, I got more than eggs and bananas, but that is simply how I roll.  But, because of the circumstances eggs and bananas are all that I remember. 
I am trying to get used to my mind being mush.
The cashier was just finishing up scanning my few items, as the gal behind me in line began loading her assortment of groceries onto the conveyor belt. I noticed her being extra careful as she lifted a cake box from her cart, and she did a nice pivot to keep it steady as she set it down.  We made eye contact and I smiled that mom to mom smile.  I suspected that it was a birthday cake, so I leaned over just the slightest bit to take a glimpse at the choice she had made, wanting to celebrate with her just the tiniest bit. 
It was a familiar color scheme of tan, greens, and browns with the place of honor taken big a big old tank. 
Of all things y'all, it had to be a tank.
 TANKS = MOS, MOS=JOB, JOB=MAN/BOY leaving for bootcamp.

My heart began to beat wildly as I stood there suddenly and immediately taken back to a birthday... making dark green icing.... using tootsie rolls for the tracks and gun turret, celebrating the love of a little boy for heavy machinery of the armored kind.   ( I wish I could find the pictures, it was a wonderful cake!)
 I began to try to speak coherently and it just all came out a jumbled mess of tears and apologies, and trying to tell her through that to hold on to these moments because they are so fleeting, while also trying to explain the rush of emotion because my little guy who used to love tanks, who still loves tanks, would be off all too soon. 
I felt as if at that very moment,  the whole lot of people at the store began to move in slow motion; all of them choosing to stare at me like I was an idiot for the tears that were beginning to fall. I somehow managed to gather my bags in a rush, and with my eyes now thoroughly blurred, I shuffled out to my van holding back the sobs.
That didn't last long.
I cried all the way home. Stupid cry. Ugly cry, and that was just the beginning.
All week, that stupid ugly cry found me.
Not in the things you might imagine, like giving my son his last haircut or talking to him about whether his siblings would be able to make it to graduation. 
NO, not stuff like that...it was random stuff.
How random you ask???
I specifically remember driving in my van, and the leaves were falling, as they are meant to do in the fall....and I lost it. Seriously, who cries because the leaves are falling, in the fall?? This gal.
A friend made me some cookies, that made me cry.
She included a note, I glanced at it briefly and I cannot bear to read it, because I know that it will make me cry and I am all about controlling my cry times (HA!) so I am saving it to read until I feel stable.  (Double HA!) 
The lady checking her baby in the stroller, cried. 
The song on the radio....ANY song on the radio, crying.
Posting a status to facebook, ugh, yes I cried.  Etc, etc, etc.......
Some things seem to make sense while others just make me feel like a loon.  I absolutely cannot get it together for any extended length of time. 
Every. Single. Day. This. Week. The ugly cry.

Then a gentle voice came from out of the darkness that whispered...."MY son leaves for bootcamp the same day as yours."
Ok, it wasn't dark and she didn't whisper, it was just a reply to a post I made in a facebook group.
But, suddenly I wasn't alone anymore.
That sounds dramatic, like I have no support group or anyone that loves me, or no one to pray for me and mine. 
None of that is true, I am beyond blessed in all of those things. My church family, my sisters here, friends with boys in the corps, my family afar all of them doing their best to make this transition easier. 
BUT, somehow knowing her walk and mine, day after day, will be the same road, has made all the difference in the world. Seriously a GIFT, that God knew that I needed.
Oh, I am still a mess but I know somewhere out there my new friend is just as much of a mess as I am.  HAhahaha, oh that sounds terrible.  But, goodness it is true.  
We are messy together.
We are believers in Christ praying messy prayers. 
Christian sisters depending on the Spirit to intercede with those words we cannot come up with as we pray for our boys.
Knowing that her heart is struggling and yet she is praying for me and mine...OH MY GOODNESS, it gives me some peace.


I reasoned out very clearly this week while loudly singing along to "Blesssed be the name of the Lord"  that I/we, are not lacking in faith, we are just Moms trying to figure out how to let go, with an extra dose of let go, military style.
  I am going to say more about that next time, as this has gotten long. It is important and needs a whole separate post.

For today, back to one of the goals of this here blog.  Encouragement and getting past the feeling crazy thing.
I want you reader to know about a few places to seek help on your military mom journey.  I am just finding a few of them myself, so I cannot fully vouch for them yet, but they look promising.  
THIS is a group on Facebook for people whose kids are still home waiting to leave (Poolee).  So many questions answered and support given.  It is within that group that you can find out the specific Company your child will be in.  This is important, because there are volunteers that keep you abreast on all that is going on leading up to graduation, and lots of tips on managing that. 
THIS is a non denominational site to give support and prayers to marine moms.  Their goal, "the place where Marine/Recruit Moms give and receive prayer, support, and encouragement to each other."
THIS is a ministry to Christians within the military; a program to connect military personnel, with the churches near where they are stationed. 

THIS is marineparents.com, wowza what a wealth of information.  

Once you find out which Recruit Depot your child will go to, there is even a facebook group for that.  Be forewarned though....lots of pictures of screaming drill instructors there!!  hee hee



Ok, I must get, so that means a horsey photo.
This is my friend, Riskey.  I caught her in the middle of a yawn, but it looks like she is nothing but weird in comparison to those other gals just going about their day. 

 I want to say, you be where you are with your emotions.  Cry, even the stupid ugly cry...but don't stop there.  Seek out some help, say some prayers and press on.  We've got this!! 

I must write....

For as long as I can remember, this firstborn son of mine has loved all things military.  

In 23 days he will leave for the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego, California for Bootcamp; and I am a hot mess!! 

I am also excited and proud, scared but faithful, strong and weak, but most of all weepy. 
I feel weary and somehow awkward from the constant high emotion, but I also feel strong.
No, that isn't right at all.
I don't feel strong.
I feel strength in my faith...my trust, my desire to be humble to God's will. 
Yup that is the strong I feel. 

But most of all I feel weepy. 

I will tell ya more about that next time, and you can laugh at me, with me. 

I hope this will be a place of truth. A place for me to be honest about this road that I will have to walk.  A place to be transparent about my faith.
  I hope it will be an encouragement to someone somewhere.  But, if nothing else I can at least get some of this crazy off of my chest!! 

I have suddenly just decided that I will finish off each post with an applicable horse image.
  Mainly because they make me happy, and because I have hundreds of them. 
For today, one day old baby Felicity.
Like me, she is awkward and struggling to get it all figured out....but she got there, and so will I.