Insert Grace Here

How do you let the news of your daughter’s deployment sink in? I didn’t over a year and a half ago {or was it two years?} when Cammie first mentioned her orders for 2013. Instead, I placed it on an imaginary shelf and left it there to be dealt with later. At the time, her then husband had been deployed to Iraq during their son’s first year of life.

With 2013 fast approaching, I’ve prayed much and determined to work through this struggle over her deployment. Other daughters have been deployed; mothers of small children have left their little ones behind. But not mine. It’s new to me.

My grandson will be three this November. In his three years of life his father has been deployed and his parents’ divorce is almost final. He’s well acquainted with change. But how do you prepare a child so small for his mother’s absence the better part of a year? Babies don’t remember the absence of a parent, though it certainly can have its effect on them. But three year old boys?

After hurricane Isaac, Cammie was called to hurricane duty not once but twice. It was then that I think I finally let the realization that deployment cometh, sink in. Then began the ache, deep within the core of my being. Gavin has a very large extended family on both parents’ sides. As we worked together to care for him, I determined to press through in prayer, push past the ache and trust my all-knowing God. He is passed from pillar to post sometimes between our enormous families. But during those weeks of his mama’s hurricane duty, his other Nannie—the aunt kind {his father’s aunt}, not to be confused with me, the grandmother kind of Nanny—spoke words of soothing balm.

She spoke of how Gavin will spend his Fridays with her mother, Gavin’s Meme, content to be there. But then his Big Mama {another of his four great grandmothers}, would pick him up for her time with him every other Friday afternoon and he’d be so happy to see her. Nannie Kelly mentioned how much it meant to her when she came to pick him up from me one day and he was so excited to see her that he ran and hugged her neck. He is surrounded by people who love him. And he willingly goes to each of us. Well, most of the time. He is a mama’s boy. Kelly’s words that day opened my eyes to the revelation that God, in His infinite wisdom, saw fit to place within Gavin his little personality, his huge heart to love so many people.

And although his place of residence seems to have changed too many times to count, he and Cammie are currently with my parents through the rest of the year until her deployment. They’re showered with lots of love. Cammie is slowly preparing Gavin for the upcoming year. For now, she tells him about her duties with the Army National Guard as Supply Specialist. And with his new-found love of Superheroes, Nana {my mom} is teaching him that his mother is a real Superhero.

One day, one step at a time, I surrender the issues surrounding Cammie’s deployment. I embrace grace. His plans are good, no matter what. Then the next curve ball comes. I’ve been so concerned over Gavin that I haven’t stopped to think about my little one, Sophie. She just turned six. “I’m trying to spend as much time with her as possible,” Cammie says to me today. And I gulp hard. Sophie. I hadn’t thought about Sophie. Yesterday, she brought home a form for their Veterans Day Program at school. I told her that Cammie could bring it home with her to Poppy {my dad} to fill out and she quickly spoke up. “NO, I want Cammie to come!” Of course. So, although she says she’s not technically a veteran, Cammie will go to her little sister’s program. And we’ll prepare Sophie, too, for Cammie’s deployment.

I’m leaning on Him and trusting through the hard stuff. I had prepared for Kuwait. “At least it’s not Afghanistan,” dozens told me. I hear talks of the military “pulling out” and I think, like many Americans, that this war is coming to an end. And then a curve ball. I knew when Cammie called and said she was coming by to talk to me that something was up. She’ll still go to Kuwait, at first. And then Afghanistan. I ask her why and what about them pulling out and the truth is, this war isn’t really over. I don’t know the exact orders and Cammie certainly couldn’t share all the details anyway, but Afghanistan?

It’s been a long week and I am physically and emotionally weary. There are lots of details, things that need to be in order before she leaves this January, first for her three months training in Ft. Bliss, Texas. I try not to think about the details and I Google Ft. Bliss. She’ll have a pass during her training and we could bring Gavin to see her. Do you know where Ft. Bliss, Texas is? It’s the western most point of Texas, right on the border of New Mexico. Of course. A seventeen hour drive.

I breathe deep. I don’t want to think about two and a half months from now. It robs the joy of now, this moment. So I read Ann Voskamp‘s words. I read from the woman who has taught me that life is in the now, the very moments, and that accepting the moments for what they are and what He gives is where we find joy.

And her words speak life to my weary soul.

When did I start thinking that good Christian living looked more like a holiday  – rather than deployment? ~ Ann Voskamp

 

Ann talks about daily life and finding the joy even in the hard stuff. And I am slowly learning this. I can refuse to accept this as His good and perfect will. I can still pray that, if He will, Cammie’s orders will be canceled. And be sure I will! But I’ll add, not my will, but Yours, Lord! Because His will is always, always best.

And joy can be found even in deployment.

So I’ll practice this. I’ll choose joy, choose to cling to Him. In His presence is fullness of joy. And this is what I want Gavin and Sophie to see, even in the absence of mom and sister and daughter.