Room for Patience

Not Your Fault

2012-01-10T15:49:00.000-08:00

Awolnation's Not Your Fault has been my anthem for the last couple of months. As the mother of two children aged two and younger, I can tell that it's likely to continue being my anthem for quite some time.

Seriously, I couldn't write some of the bewildering scenarios those two babies manage to fit us into. I'm thankful that for the most part, I can look any given debacle in the eye and laugh, and at other times just be completely unaffected by it all.

After all, they're little ones. Their jobs are not to be neat, clean and convenient. On the contrary, their occupation is to take in everything around them. And while my kids are busy soaking up their surroundings, it is their clothing's job to soak up whatever beverage or bodily fluid is being distributed without my immediate knowledge.

These things should be expected, and typically, they are.

Then, there are days like today. Where all the elements of my life inside and outside of this home rendezvous in the center of my living room, insistent upon creating all different kinds of chaos until there is nothing left for this mama to do except crack.

And crack, I do. Two crying kids, a handful of Cheerios of Silence later, and I'm ready to love on my kids the way they deserve.

I turn to prayer, and ask Him for strength. I remember the concept of trading an earthly belonging for a Heavenly one. Colossians 3:8 mentions some of the more undesirable aspects of being human.

But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips.

Colossians 3:12, on the other hand, features traits of a much more pleasant nature.

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.

Easier said than done? Yes. Worth it? Totally. It's all about taking it one thing at a time. So for now, I'm trading anger for compassion, and trusting God to see me through on it.

Awolnation will likely be soundtracking me along the way, too...

What does that even mean?

2012-01-09T00:00:00.000-08:00

Living intentionally. Being purposeful.

Really?

These are some of the phrases I kept running into when I first began perusing Christian blogs. Interesting reading, sure, but phrases like these usually caused me to dismiss the author's credibility for speaking Christiansese.

Snotty of me? Yeah. Probably.

I wasn't on the search for religious fads and phases. I wanted to read from someone with authentic faith and words.

And then it happened. I began to hear those faddish and cliche words.

In my head!

See, the reason I had been making the rounds on Christian blogs in the first place, was in part a revival of my need and desire for God in my life. Wanting to go further with Him. To keep Him there with me all the time, and do what He would want me to do.

I started going back to church. Night time found me cracking open my Bible, and before I knew it, I was reaching for certain verses throughout my day.

Before long I was looking for the areas of my life where I could work on being more intentional in my devotion to family and God. Searching for the subtle, unhealthy habits and behaviors that were keeping me from being the kind of Christian I wanted to be. Making sure each deliberate action had a purpose.

My days of judging the use of Christianese are over. As it turns out, using it is one of the few accidental things there are about pursuing God. Perhaps it's only a matter of time before speaking such phrases becomes intentional.

2012-01-05T21:30:00.000-08:00

Well. Christmas has passed, the tree is down, and the snow never really came. It's safe to assume that I've been frequenting my phone's Christmas countdown app more than usual.

Five days into this new year, and I find myself feeling less fickle in my interests, more confident in my priorities, and moving in directions I once believed to be dormant in my mind. Not wanting to over-credit the turning of a new year, I have to admit that these things have been solidifying in me for the past year or so. Perhaps longer...

Dare I suggest, that while this site is still in its infancy, that Room for Patience may no longer be a military blog. To be clear, I love writing, and I love this military life we lead. Unfortunately, instead of posting anything of real merit, I find myself over-thinking possible content, only to be left uninterested and without a timely post.

Days move quicker, and weeks segue into months even faster. Time is not something I'll allow to be monopolized by things that mean little or nothing to me. While embracing our Air Force life and volunteering within it remain important to me, writing a military blog is proving both boring and inconvenient.

Considering, however, that writing is simply innate with me to the point that I need to do it, I'll be continuing forward with this blog. From this point on, Room for Patience (that name, I think I'll keep...) will be geared toward my faith life.

Since making the decision to be baptized when I was 16, much of my time has been spent thinking of and pursuing God. Not always evident through my actions, my voracious interest in literary things religious has never waned. Having spent years looking for where God wanted me to be, I spent more time inside books and outside of church, trying to go it alone.

Lately I've grown tired of keeping areas of my life separate. In seeking God both on an academic and personal, relationship-based level, life has somehow become sweeter than ever. The times I run to prayer find me a better mother to my kids, more astute to any sort of work in front of me, and more perseverant toward the busy and somewhat daunting future in front of me.

I'm doubtful that this blog will ever turn into some sort of online ministry, but should more or less chronicle any medium that finds me exercising my faith. For once, I'll be looking at blogging not as a means to any sort of end, but as a project. Working out my faith in public, per se.

Anyways, ending on that note... I was randomly flipping through an old Bible the other day, and found this:

2 Samuel 14:14.
All of us must die eventually. Our lives are like water spilled out on the ground, which cannot be fathered up again. That is why God tries to bring us back when we have been separated from Him. He does not sweep away those He cares about--and neither should you!

Good luck exploring the infinite abyss!

2011-12-19T06:43:00.000-08:00

Growing up, I was always told to relish wherever I was in life, since my impending adulthood would inevitably fly by. Though I never exactly dismissed the thought, it wasn't until recently that I began to understand its truth, either.

So here we are. Five years into the the military, with at least five more lying ahead. Beyond that is anybody's guess.

With reading other milspouse blogs comes the realization that some of these couples are destined to be military lifers. At this point, anyway, they seem to have it all figured out. Unafraid of the uprooting whimsy that is military life, they look at their future and accept its contractual, yet indefinite terms together.

The more I think about it, I envy them.

While it's possible that our affair with the Air Force could last just as long, it remains uncertain. We look ahead one contract at a time, not knowing what comes next. It's only after life quickly sweeps more time under the rug that we realize it's time to make that decision about reenlistment at least one more time.

Perhaps all I need is a perspective adjustment, but some days this leaves me unable to look past the years of my husband's current contract. We're living life to its fullest and preparing for the future, but after a certain point I find myself staring into the infinite abyss.

Ah, but isn't that the truth for us all? Sure, it looks different to everyone, but no one is exempt from questioning what will become of them in the future.

It seems that the best I can do is make my plans, see them through, and accept that this is simply the structure and foundation needed for life to create something bigger than me.

...

Challenge accepted.

Key Spouses: Who They Are, What They Are Not

2011-12-14T11:50:00.000-08:00

Sometimes key spousing is no fun.

A look inside my key spouse binder. Specifics blurred out.

Our squadron's updated deployment list came out last week. Upon looking it over, I commented to Hubs that one of his friends is deploying soon. While this isn't news to him, my comment was more to the effect of, "Hey! This is one of the guys whose wife you said was nice. And I need friends..."

To which Hubs sympathetically replied, "Yeah... She doesn't really like your group."

Oh.

My group, by the way, is not what this woman thinks it is. According to a handful of people, though, my group exists only to do petty things.

For them, to be a key spouse is to pretend one has authority over non-key spouse spouses. It means holding social gatherings in order to talk about the people who aren't there. It is about holding my husband's rank high up in the air for all to see. To be a key spouse is to be an elitist snob.

Alas. That is not what I do. As a key spouse to our squadron, I check up on and extend myself to the families of our deployed. As a key spouse, I send out mass e-mails to make sure our squadron is aware of what our base has to offer them. When they end up in the hospital, I call and see if there is any way to help. Childcare? Short-term chauffeur? Meals until you're back on your feet? Done. If I don't have an answer, let me call someone who will.

Sure, there is a social side to being a key spouse. We also arrange monthly social gatherings. Playgroups. Book clubs. Dinners and holiday events. We have the hope that there will be something for everyone. Even if it has to be subgroups, it is our hope to instill an actual sense of community.

Once a month our squadron's key spouses get together to discuss how well we've been keeping up with our assigned duties. We work together to figure out what is working and what can be done better in order to help spouses feel welcome and at home. There are four of us and about eighty families. Of the four of us, I am the only spouse whose husband is enlisted. The officer's wives express some concern over the fact that a few of their charges refuse to accept their help. They have used mutual acquaintances to play telephone, informing the key spouse group that they will not speak with officers' wives, "because they know how they are."

As I understand it, there are spouses out there who wear their husband's rank. The women I know, however, are not those women. Nor are they cookie-cutter renditions of one another. Regardless of whether they are married to an officer or an enlisted man, all of these women are Air Force Wives. They remember their own times of need, and how the help they did or didn't receive affected them. As they balance the various aspects of their personal lives--which still include deployments--they also choose to take on the work of a key spouse, and take that responsibility seriously.

My final priority as a key spouse is this: to bite my tongue and cap my pen, lest I send certain folks Thinking of You cards pointing out the sad irony which lies in calling their key spouses snobby, elitist women.

Friday Correspondence: Holidays Away from Home

2011-12-09T20:20:00.001-08:00

With the holidays fast approaching, my mind turns toward the families who are missing deployed loved ones. Toward the deployed who are missing loved ones back home.

These days we're fortunate to have such things as Skype and e-mail to better keep in touch, but even so, there are service members who remain unattainable. Due to the nature of a mission, or perhaps for being encapsulated in a submarine deep below, sometimes communication is once again slow in nature.

Image and excerpt courtesy of War-Letters.com

PVT. Philip White, who was in France during Christmas of 1945, often wrote to his young daughter, Jackalyn. With Christmas Day being no exception, I can only begin to imagine how badly the distance between Philip and his family must have felt during such cold and dire days.

Dear Jackie,

I sure would have liked to been there and seen your face when you saw your new doll this morning. I hope the one Daddy sent got there on time. If not I know you will enjoy it just as much when it does finally come. I also hope it has real hair and is just what you like. When daddy does get home, he will let you pick out one, to your liking.

I hope Santa treated your pretty good this year. I heard him say that maybe he would get you a pair of skis. you must be careful of these skis and not get in the road. Daddy didn't go down to the Red Cross for the Christmas Tree. The boys have just brought to Kids up here to see a movie. They are real cute and clean. I now that I had gone.

N.Y - N.Y.
Wed. morning

I didn't get this finished last night so will close and mail now. We aren't leaving until 5:00 P.M. Most of the boys are pulling out at 10:00 A.M. I think that you will be able to find Heidelburg on the maps because it is a good size city. A Nazi stronghold and the home of Heidelberg University. I have written this once before but this once may get them first

All my Love
Philip.

Reading PVT. White's letter*, the affection for his family pours through every word, and I find myself hoping and praying that he had a safe homecoming. While I read no suggestion of when he came home, his letters do indicate that he survived the war, as the last of the lot is dated in 1946 (official end date of WWII is September 2, 1945).

Indeed, I find nothing wrong in allowing myself the image of Jackalyn enveloped in a long-overdue hug from her father, as the entire family gathers around Philip at his homecoming.

*A portion of PVT. White's letter has been excerpted from this post, but can be found in its entirety at the letter's website.

A day late, but...

2011-12-08T12:27:00.001-08:00

For the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941, I would like to say Thank You.

Thank You to Everyone who has ever chosen to place themselves between our country and any threat that may come upon it. You are truly appreciated.

Bringing Home Movies Back

2011-12-04T21:30:00.001-08:00

Tonight I finally unloaded all of the videos off my Flip. It was heartwarming, to say least. Movies of my son, barely a year old and scrambling after the cats. Toward the end I noticed only two recent videos, both featuring our two kids playing with their daddy in a sea of toys.

It's a bit disappointing that the past eight or so months have been devoid of any new home movies. Realizing that my daughter's crucial first year has gone by with barely any video footage is a sad thing. I'm resolved from now on to keep the camera at hand, lest we one day simply be left with, "Remember when they were little..."

Especially with Hubs set to deploy some time in the upcoming months, I'd like nothing more than to send him off with a hard drive or DVD full of our recent memories as a family.

Our first deployment was by no means fun, but it was at least bearable for our son, who was a little over a year old at the time. Between Skype and keeping Daddy in the conversation while he was gone, E never really skipped a beat.

Ah, but now E is two-and-a-half, and Daddy is his world. At nine months old, our daughter is also extremely aware of the comfort she finds with her dad.

In no way am I looking forward to putting those children to bed that first night with Hubs away.

Yes, the camera will stay on. Not only for him, but for us back at home.

While it will be nice for us to see our previous romps and interactions on the TV, and we'll be mostly dependent on Skype to keep in touch, I feel like there is more to be done for our children. I'm paranoid that as the months go by, they'll figure out that Daddy in the TV is not someone to be interacted with.

Now, really. What am I suppose to do for these children who seemingly believe that the sun shines out of their dad's posterior?

Keeping with the theme of video, the USO program United Through Reading seems like a good place to start. The program invites deployed parents to have themselves recorded while reading a book to their child. The USO will then have the video mailed to the child, who can then share story time with their deployed loved one.

While United Through Reading is isn't available at every deployment site, it is available at quite a few. It's worth giving your base or post library a call to see if they partake in the program, or if they provide similar services before your spouse deploys. My husband tends to err on the shy side, so we'll be recording our interactive reading experience here at home.

What a fortunate thing it is to live in an era where technology can assist families in feeling close to one another when they're oceans apart. It's the thought of that upcoming distance that will help keep my memory-keeping habits in check.

Writing Ourselves Into History

2011-12-04T14:10:00.001-08:00

History is an intense thing.

History is not some dry and overwith experience found inside of a text book. Regardless of whether you think you’ve heard the story or not, there will always be another side. Not only that, but each side inevitably contains a wealth of emotions.

Never before have I been so thankful for the preservation of historical documents, as recently I began researching wartime correspondence. As it turns out, there are entire foundations whose sole purpose revolves around the preservation of documents created during our American wars.

The Legacy Project, established in 1998, seeks to preserve letters written by American servicemen throughout the years. Their website provides instructions on how to preserve documents of varying age and condition, and also encourages the owners of letters and e-mails to send copies to the foundation.

With the help of several thousand volunteers, The Legacy Project has been able to publish four books, each filled with letters covering a different aspect of life for the deployed servicemen. Letters and photos also go on to be featured in museums or memorials, where visitors can glimpse for themselves the words and sentiments of heroes long gone by.

The Love Letters Project, created by the Missouri History Museum, is another beautiful endeavor honoring a Union soldier and his wife. When James E. Love enlisted during the Civil War, he kept correspondence with his wife Molly. The Love Letters Project aims to publish each of James’ letters 150 years to the date he penned them.

Having come across these collections of letters has inspired me to include a similar endeavor here at Room for Patience. From this point on, Fridays will be reserved for excerpts and photos of wartime correspondence between service members and their loved ones at home.

How can there ever be enough recognition for this brand of communication? Living between each word is the sort of emotion that can only be found in a person who has discovered just how much they have to live for. Receiving such a letter injects its addressee with the sort of feeling that leaves them wondering if that unopened envelope can actually be real.

I consider it a gift that over 200 years after the first American war letters were written, that today we get to read them, preserve them, and we get to share them.

To end, please allow me to share an excerpt from James Love’s letter dated December 3 or 4, 1861.

I hope all is for the best. I wish to have a long conversation with you when I return. I’ve had many things to say for some time but in the unsettled not to say worse state in which I & all were in I could not begin did not know where to begin – while I seemed so much on the downward grade

My dearest girl I write in much haste & with sincerest love & esteem

I am
Ever yours
James E. Love

Out On A Limb

2011-12-02T14:09:00.000-08:00

Recently as I sat in on a key spouse meeting, I was told to be at the ready to help out a woman whose husband is deployed. At the moment she is on our squadron’s do not contact list, but recently found herself calling one of our colonels to help get her to the emergency room. Much to our relief, she is going to be okay.

In instances like these I’m so thankful to be part of a squadron that is tight knit enough that people can feel comfortable enough to approach at least one person in their times of need. Still, I’m left wondering what made this woman decide to put herself on the do not contact list in the first place.

Has she had negative experience with a prior squadron? With our squadron? Is she shy, or feel that she is better off going it alone, instead of bothering someone?

Whatever her reasoning, I can only hope that in time she’ll consider accepting the invite to be cared for by others within the squadron. We may not all come here knowing one another, but this is a world wherein the help of a previously unknown face can be what gets us through the day.

Choosing military life can set one up for a lonely experience. There is little to no room for reclusiveness if we are to thrive under our unique circumstances. Sometimes the only thing keeping us from being truly friendless is our willingness to let others in, even when every internal fiber wants nothing more than to resist an offer for help, or to turn down that slightly awkward invite for coffee.

Keep in mind that that slightly awkward invite for coffee stemmed from someone putting herself out there.

Do yourself a favor, and take it. Take a chance to move past your comfort zone, and the most you lose is an hour or two of your time.

What you have to gain is substantially more.

Room for Patience

2011-11-19T16:06:00.000-08:00

Military moves are nothing if not interesting. Frantic pets. Rambunctious children. Eagle-eyed adults who, despite their best efforts, still end up with a dirty litter box on the moving truck.

No matter your family make-up, living the military lifestyle is something one adapts to. While that lifestyle may look different from one family to the next, there are still several factors they all have in common.

It is learned that cross-country moves are not cause to put life on hold. Instead there is planning and research that allow for future career, volunteer, or academic endeavors to be seamlessly pursued from one PCS to another. Thankfully, PCSing also grants the opportunity to start anew, and perhaps slow down for a time.

Personal touches hold dual purpose of memory-keeping and beautifying even the most outdated of base housing. The idea of home becomes less dependent on the house or the things in it, but more about the lives of the people who occupy it.

Creating and keeping traditions–both for one’s self and the family–becomes ever more important when the promise of deployment hangs over everyone’s heads.

All of the aforementioned may sound persevering and heartwarming. And it is. Alas, familial bonding and being active in the community does not happen overnight. Nor does such strength and bliss seem apparent all the time. Like anything else worth having in life, it requires all the internal energy a person has. Communication, empathy, understanding, creativity, flexibility, and perhaps the toughest of all… Patience.

At the end of the day, the military family finds itself handling the same everyday grind, garnished with a little something more. It requires service members to leave their loved ones for months at a time, sometimes with little to no notice. It teaches spouses to confirm that all the paperwork–bills, power of attorney, orders, the wills–are kept safe and current. It keeps children wondering how easy it will be at the next base to make new friends.

Being a military wife, these are circumstances I have signed on for. From the beginning, the ups and downs have not always been clear to me, but I am choosing to embrace it as we go along. As a wife, mother, and journalist, I’ll be using this blog as an outlet to further delve into and explore what military life has to offer.

With no decisive end to our military life in sight, I am choosing to embrace and explore, in doing so leaving certain aspects of my once-rigid life plan aside. While it may not always be easy, it has always been worth it, and I refuse to believe that this whimsical, somewhat transient life has to bethat hard.

That is why regardless of where the military decides to plant us, it is always best to make room for patience.