Hills & Valleys: Our Faith Journey

Throughout this season, I have had many people ask me questions about various aspects of our military life, so I thought perhaps I should address them here. This post may be a little random, but bear with me. When will you get to see your husband again? We will get to see each other again when he gets home in the spring. The times we were able to visit in May (for 4 days) and July (for 7 days) were his "RnR" - aka the time the military gives servicemembers to spend with their families. Now we are into the long haul of waiting for him to get home. Why didn't you move to Australia? or... Why didn't you stay in Australia longer on your recent trip? I have gotten both questions more times than I can count. In short, I felt like it was crucial for Selah to have a little bit of stability in her life in the midst of a very big part of her life (Daddy) leaving for a long time. One of the reasons we made the move to Georgia in December was so that we could set up our hou...

My God... You are my rest. You are my joy. You are my healing. You are my strength. You are everything that I need. You are the One who keeps me going. You are the reason that I can sing in one of the hardest seasons of my life. How I thank You, and praise You, for all that You are to me.

So how are you? Well...(that's a deep subject) it's hard to say. Here, in this moment, I'm doing fine. I'm happy...I just had a wonderful conversation with my love, my house is mostly clean, it's peaceful and quiet. A candle burns on my coffee table and the scent wafts through my house. But, if you'd asked me 5-6 hours ago how I was doing, the answer would have been different. The answer would have been "Please give me some sanity and take my child." I wanted my hubby home. I wanted normal. I wanted a moment - just one - to myself. I wanted to be able to finish a project without a baby crying incessantly. I wanted to be able to be Rebekah, wife to Caleb, perfectionist, the one with the ultra clean house, the mom who had it together. But I wasn't. I didn't have it all together. I didn't feel like me. I felt like tired, frazzled, frustrated mama who most certainly does not  have it all together. The toys scattered all over three roo...

I don't really know where to begin. This has been weighing on me since Friday, and I still haven't figured out the exact word to describe how I'm feeling. At Selah's one year doctor's appointment, the doctor and I discussed her weight a little. I knew she wanted Selah to gain more - we've been talking about it for several months. But, as far as I understood, it was always a "She's doing fine, I'd just like to see her a little chubbier" kind of conversation. And honestly, that's how the conversation seemed to go on Friday too. The doc recommended I start Selah on Pediasure just to help her get enough calories, and I told her we'd give it a shot. She gave me a WIC prescription in case we were eligible (I wasn't sure at the time) and I stuffed it in the diaper bag, figuring I'd check it out later. Well, when I got home and looked at the prescription, I saw three words I had never even considered being applied to Selah:  "f...

I enthusiastically signed up for an online Bible study a few weeks ago, declaring to myself that I was not  going to fall behind this time as is commonly my manner. This time, I will stay on top of it, I determined. Yet here I am, and I'm behind. I can't say it doesn't bother me. It does. I feel like it's not that hard, plenty of other people are keeping up to date on it - so why can't I? And, this is supposed to be a community-building study - a time when I can learn and grow spiritually in a community of military wives. I just know that there's more I could get out of this study if I was doing it at the same pace as everyone else. But then I remember what God has been showing me of late: perfection isn't necessary. There is no panel of judges scoring me on whether I complete my Bible study on the assigned schedule. There's no laundry police giving me an F on my wifely report card for not having folded that load of laundry in the dryer. And there...

I miss you. I miss holding your hand on the way to church. I miss rambling your ear off at random moments in the day. I miss waking up to your handsome face on the pillow beside me. I miss you stealing the blankets. I miss being in your arms - the ultimate feeling of "home". I miss the way you rub my shoulders when you're standing by me. I miss you leaving our closet door open. I miss doing your laundry. I miss the buzz of your phone alarm going off in the morning. It's crazy how much I miss you, and it's only been 4 days. I don't know how I will make it through the next 361 days. But I do know this: I am so proud of you, love. I'll be waiting for you - no matter what.

It's something I don't quite know how to explain. Yet somehow, each week, I feel the same way.  Saturday comes and goes...but it is not just a day to me any more. It is a day of worship - worship so very different from what I have ever known, worship that transcends lyrics or tunes or atmosphere. I walk in, and I am empty. I am tired. I am broken. I am wondering  if I can make it through the coming week - 7 days that feel too big and overwhelming for me to handle. I am wondering whether my daughter will be "that" child that will disrupt the service. But, I am   here. I breathe in and take my seat. While I sit I am overwhelmed by how great God is - not because of anything said by any one person, but because of how evident He is in their joy, their manner. And as I sit, I can't help but think that this is the way it is supposed to be. Sanctuary. Peace. Joy. Conviction. Worship. All of these I find here, in this special place. I walk in the door and I am w...