My husband left for Afghanistan on June 22, 2010. To say this was one of the hardest days of my life is an understatement. It was almost surreal. We had just become parents and now my husband was leaving for an entire year. I watched him crowd onto a hot bus. I kept my eyes fixed on his. I wasn't looking away until I knew he couldn't see me anymore. The bus pulled away and I felt like my world had collapsed. It was as horrible as it sounds watching my best friend drive away, but I am so thankful I did. I guess I had that ultimate fear that I may never see him again (afterall he was headed to a combat zone). Tears filled my eyes and streamed down my face. I had to remind myself to breathe. Just breathe. Once I took my deep breath I did the only thing I knew to do and that was pray. I prayed right then and there for God to watch over my husband and keep him safe. I prayed for God to help me get myself together because waiting for me at home were my precious 5 week old baby boys.
In the days following his departure, I felt sick. It was a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, and it felt like it would never leave. Of course I knew that I would eventually feel better, but it was so daunting to think of the entire year we had ahead of us. I was absolutely love sick. Not only that, but I am sure I was still suffering from some post pregnancy hormones and sleep deprivation. My mom wasn't able to come to help me for a few days and so I was flying solo. Many, many times I had to remind myself to breathe. Any time the tears came I would take a deep breath and pray.
I remember going on walks with the boys in those early days and praying the entire time. Just asking God to help me take care of my babies and bring my husband back to us as soon as possible. I asked Him to help me be a good mother and to help me "do this" because I didn't know how. I prayed that I COULD actually do this, and at that point I wasn't sure if I could really raise my twin boys by myself. As we began to walk I would start to cry, but always telling myself to just breathe and then asking God for help in that moment. I have to admit that most every day at some point I still fight tears or actual tears flow. I am not emotionally unstable, but dealing with a tremendous helping of "life" on my plate. Each time I am met with tears, whether or not I choose to let them flow, I always breathe and pray.
I know my God has been my rock through this tough year. He is the one and only "person" that has never left my side, lifted me up everyday, and led me through some of the loneliest days of my life. I truly have felt blessed by Him and know He has answered my prayers. That prayer I prayed on my walks with my sweet baby boys (and every time I pray for that matter), for my husband to be brought home to us as soon as possible, was answered. My husband is returning home roughly two months early. It brings tears to my eyes to know my God has once again taken such good care of us. He is so good. We know from His word that God truly takes care of His people and that "the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much"- James 5:16. I stand amazed at all my God has done and continues to do for me and my family. I am forever greatful for those opportunities to just breathe and pray, and consider myself all the better for having done so.
This is a picture of our sweet little family just before Joe left. I love this picture and the story it tells.
