Prayer for Military

Thank You Lord, for the protection so far that, unlike so many other countries, allows us to pray on the street, in our homes, or wherever we wish. Thank you for the protection of the countless lives of those serving who have made it home from war to their families. Thank you God, that you are a "shield for all who take refuge in You" , and that "You arm me with strength." We honor You, and harness the power of prayer You have given us so that we may lift up our nations military.
(Psalm 18:30-32)

Please pray for our military leaders to make smart decisions regarding location and terms of missions so minimal lives would be lost and God's will would be done. Our worldly enemies have Satan making the calls, but we know that we should "not be afraid or discouraged, for the battle is not ours, but God's." ( 2 Chronicles 20:15)

Please pray for support and healing for those who have suffered, soldiers and families, from the countless effects of PTSD, (Post-traumatic Stress Disorder), and other injuries and illnesses resulting from war. Pray that we can learn from You, and strengthen and prepare soldiers and families before they enter the battlefield so they may be empowered and the Enemy would have little effect on them.

Please pray for guidance on how our nation can continue to minister to military families, how we can help them seek wisdom and realize the healing power of Jesus. That their faith would flourish, and their roots in Him would grow deeper, so no storm could sway them.

Thank you, God, that although military families have different and sometimes greater struggles than others, they are no less powerful than our brothers and sisters in Christ. Please help us realize that You are building us up so we can strengthen others. That You are the "God of all comfort, who comforts us in in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble."
(2 Corinthians 1: 3,4) Thank you for the trials in our lives, for only You know our hearts, and only in You we can overcome. We ask these things in Your awesome and glorious Name, Amen.

My first awakening

      Late again! I’m late again! Why am I always running late! This time I blame my husband.  I hadn’t talked to him in three weeks, and when he called this morning it was hard to get off the phone.  His unit has been running back to back missions in Iraq and he hasn’t been able to call.  Maybe I should just blame the War itself.  Well, I’m sitting here in my car on the side of the road, and I’d better come up with an excuse soon, because here he comes…”

     “Good morning officer! I’m so sorry I was speeding. I coach my daughter’s soccer team, and I’m running behind, and that semi came out of nowhere and just stopped in the middle of the road, and when I managed to get around him, it was too late to stop for the red light. And then I saw you pull out behind me and turn on your lights, and it made me nervous and I didn’t realize that I had turned down a one way street to pull over…OH! When will this day end!”

“Why are you laughing? That’s not why you stopped me is it? I drove half way across post with my purse on the roof of my car! Yes, thank you.  I’m glad you think it’s so funny.  Have a good day, officer.”

     My purse! My beloved bag of treasures! You can learn a lot about a person by peeking in their handbag. 

When John left for his first deployment, I was so lonely and depressed, and just plain bored. It seemed like I had all the time in the world, and then some. So if you were to look inside my bag back then, you’d see everything was nice, neat, and easy to find. Even my coupons were in alphabetical order.

Well, when John left again, I decided I wasn’t going to cry myself to sleep anymore. I would just cram my schedule as tight as I could to make the time fly by. And when he got home,  I would just switch from crazy, frazzled, single mom, to peaceful, joy-filled, content  wife and mother.  And if I were to open my purse, it would reflect that.

     The reality is, John has been home for over a year, and making that switch wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.  My purse is just as a mess as I am right  now. So if I’m not distracting myself from the pain of missing John, then what am I running from? Why can’t I get my priorities back on track? There has to be some happy medium between isolation and exhaustion.  So my goal is to not carry around so much baggage,  and change my thoughts from “Is it bed time yet?” to “I can’t wait to see what God has in store for me tomorrow.”

     “Lord, when exactly was the turning point?  When did I allow so many other things to invade my quiet time with You? Lord I ask that you prepare our hearts today to begin a journey to step back and take a look at what really matters to You.  That when the darkness of our military lives begins to cast shadows, we will break forth with the power you’ve given us, and break free from this cycle. I ask these things in Jesus glorious name, Amen.

     So today begins my journey. It is a “new dawn,” and I can’t do it without your help.  We need to be there for each other, to ask for and offer support.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember all the things that Jesus has led us through in our lives because we are focused so much on the current struggle. We think that it is easier to give into the darkness than to break forth and allow Jesus to lead us through it. Tomorrow is a New Dawn. As Jesus rose from the darkness of his tomb and to new life, we can let the Lord renew are hearts and break this cycle. There is a spiritual war being fought, and we can either run from the fight and fill our lives with meaningless, numbing activities, or you can join me in a little Spring cleaning and let God decide what is important.  Jesus is closer than you think to help you along. He has sent people who want to share in your pain, and love you unconditionally

      “Lord, thank you for my sisters.  Thank you that I don’t have to be alone with my anguish.  That with Your help and their compassion I will always know that the sun will rise again, and your Glory will prevail. In Jesus name, Amen.”

I Am Thankful for the War

            I want to share a little on how my husband’s combat trauma from his military service and his symptoms of PTSD, TBI, and other combat related issues,  have affected my family and how we are dealing with it all. I believe that how your children live life comes largely from how you deal with unexpected events as a parent. How you deal with stress, anxiety, loss, grief, duty, surprises, and all of the other issues of military life, in addition to the stability of your family and your faith beforehand, dictates how your children respond. It is a great responsibility, and feels sometimes like a huge burden and blessing at the same time, to raise kids to be reliable, stable adults when it is seems impossible at times to be these things yourself. But you all know that it is possible to find that balance with the help of our Lord. But I am thankful for the war.

            We were married for two years before John enlisted in the Army. We both worked, but for a short time, John was between jobs and stayed home with our oldest daughter while I brought home the bacon. They did everything together. Allison was daddy’s little girl, and is still a tomboy. She was two when he first deployed, and I was eight months pregnant with our second daughter, Samantha. When John had returned from his first deployment, he showed signs of acute combat trauma. Short-lived jumpiness, a need for order and security, and reactions to triggers such as blood, lightning, car lights, fireworks, or suspicious persons emerged. There was little discussion about these new additions to his personality. He kept them well hidden or subdued by alcohol, and we simply laughed at his antics and his stories. The newborn Samantha was now a walking, talking toddler , and Daddy was very excited to hang out with his best buddy Allison. They were so close when he left, like they had their own secret language. But now, possibly confused as to why he left, and why her high pitched squeals of laughter now angered him, she refused to speak to John.

            This continued for four months. Eventually, she regained his trust, and began to communicate with him again, only to say good-bye as he left for training. Allison would continue to show distrust in men. In the beginning, I was so ready for him to be part of the family again. I ignored all of the warning signs of trauma as I pretended everything was ok to avoid criticism from my family. And as the months passed, I looked forward to his second deployment as relief from the confusion in myself and my children. I was eager to have control again, and hoped that some time away would do both of us good. I was thankful for the war.

            During John’s second deployment, the girls and I had gotten used to life on our own. We worked as a well oiled machine, with the understanding that I was mother, friend, and acting father. I tried to do fun things with them, the things I knew their dad would want them to do. They looked at me like a superhero, and I enjoyed pleasing them and sharing my thoughts with them. I had filled the role of father for them, and they had eased my need for a companion.

            Before military life, each person had their place in the family dynamic. Because of John’s absence, the girls and I had unknowingly replaced him. We had become confident, independent, and certain of our future. We had also filled our schedules with so many activities to pass the time, it made it impossible to fit John back into the picture.

            Unfortunately, John’s second combat tour in Iraq was 1,000 times worse than his first. He is a combat engineer, and seeing death of innocent children, his brothers in arms, and the needless torture of human beings, in addition to no sleep or food, hand-to-hand combat, firefights, and numerous blows to his body from explosives, sometimes all in one day, seven days straight for fifteen months, left wounds on his mind, body and soul.

            When John returned home again, I was four months along with our third daughter. I was expecting his little quirks, but was not prepared to meet another person. He was plagued by nightmares, migraines, night sweats, depression, anxiety, hyper alertness, fear, anger, fatigue, and guilt from his service. This emotional trauma presented itself as sensitivity to the loud cries of the newborn baby, anger over the kid’s messy rooms and abundance of toys, confusion over how to relate to his kids that have grown while he was away, and resentment toward me for not understanding what he was going through. Emily, the baby, adapted well by avoiding him or his triggers, and learning how to judge his moods. Allison, my oldest, went through a period of detachment where she avoided physical or emotional affection from either of us. My middle child, Sam, became even more of a momma’s girl, becoming clingy and upset over having to share me with her dad, and wanting to know what I was doing every second of the day.

            The injuries to John’s brain from physical impacts and percussion of explosives manifested themselves in headaches, ringing in his ears, short-term memory loss, hand tremors, balance issues, and body twitches.  Although he desperately wanted to play with his children and join us in our activities, he was a 28 year old soldier living as a 78 year old man. Eventually, overwhelmed and frustrated, John self-medicated with alcohol and prescription medications. Over time, the family dynamic shifted back as if he was gone again. If the girls needed help with something, they would walk right past him and ask me for help or input to avoid upsetting him. I took back control over everything, and both the girls and I resented him for “leaving” us again, like he was giving up. He was physically there, but like a ghost behind a mirror that you cannot communicate with. He became like a roommate, instead of part of the family. Daddy was gone. I was thankful for the war.

            Because of our faith and determination to overcome PTSD and TBI, or at least to live with it and allow John back into our family, we continued to seek God to bring us hope. Eventually, I became exhausted by trying to eliminate every trigger to prevent episodes, and being the perfect wife and mom I thought I had to be to make some sort of impact, or get through to him somehow and convince him we were worthy of a change, worthy of fighting for. The fact is, a transformation was needed, but it was out of my hands to initiate it. We were both broken and helpless, as I began to show the same symptoms of my husband. Postpartum depression turned into severe depression. Our family fell into chaos as we both became numb and desperate, and like the children, in need of parental guidance and love. I have to give my kids credit for saving us, as they were a gift from God that reminded me there were three beautiful little people worth living for. I was thankful for the war.

            But as much credit as I give God and my children for loving me through my ups and downs, and granting me grace, I give my husband the most for convincing me to get help. God had answered our prayers and provided people and tools to begin John’s healing, and he couldn’t bear seeing me go through the same thing he had, or allow the enemy to take away the mother of his girls. All this time I was trying so desperately to save my family, when it was my family that saved me. I was thankful for the war.

            The fact is that there may be environmental factors that ease the effects of combat trauma on the family. Loving grandparents, caring mentors and neighbors, and good teachers and friends. But God is the ultimate healer, and the only one that can provide the strength that is necessary to restore faith in yourself. No matter how strong you think your family is, the enemy will continue to work his way in as result of the sin of man, and it pains God deeply. I have learned that we must play an active part by preparing for battle and allowing God in our family to make all things, including PTSD and TBI, work for His good and glory. I am thankful for the war.

            So how do I do this? Simply by giving my husband, and myself, the grace and mercy my Savior has given me. By looking past John’s innate sin and dark mask of combat trauma, I am beginning to see the perfect person God created in His image. I am able to trust my partner again because I am not trusting in his own nature, but trusting fully in Jesus. I am now free to praise John for what he does right. And now that there are no more expectations, it is so much easier to find joy. I love my husband and my family, and I am thankful for the war, because if it were not for his sacrifice, I would not appreciate the strong bond we now have and all the blessings that have followed. We are now prepared for a different war, a spiritual war, a war where our Savior was sacrificed in order to bring forgiveness and eternal life and blessings on his children. I am thankful for war.

Jonah 2: 2-9
“In my distress I called to the LORD,
   and he answered me.
From deep in the realm of the dead I called for help,
   and you listened to my cry.
³ You hurled me into the depths,
   into the very heart of the seas,
   and the currents swirled about me;
all your waves and breakers
   swept over me.
⁴ I said, ‘I have been banished
   from your sight;
yet I will look again
   toward your holy temple.’
⁵ The engulfing waters threatened me,^[b]
   the deep surrounded me;
   seaweed was wrapped around my head.
⁶ To the roots of the mountains I sank down;
   the earth beneath barred me in forever.
But you, LORD my God,
   brought my life up from the pit.
 ⁷ “When my life was ebbing away,
   I remembered you, LORD,
and my prayer rose to you,
   to your holy temple.
 ⁸ “Those who cling to worthless idols
   turn away from God’s love for them.
⁹ But I, with shouts of grateful praise,
   will sacrifice to you.
What I have vowed I will make good.
   I will say, ‘Salvation comes from the LORD.’”