Insert Grace Here

 

 

 

What freedom sounds like to us—the family of a deployed Soldier . . .

 

{photo by Chasity Pierson Photography}

We paint our towns red, white, and blue to announce Independence Day. We celebrate a day off work with barbecues and brilliant displays of fireworks. Hopefully we remember why. I haven’t always. I’ve gone through the motions, sang the songs.

But this year is different.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My oldest daughter, Cammie, is deployed. This year Kuwait is her home.

 

This year, freedom sounds a little different to my family. When I asked my family members what it meant to them to have Cammie deployed, this is what they said:

My grandson—Cammie’s three-year-old son Gavin—said, “Her flies on her air-o-plane and gets to the Army.” When I asked him how he feels about that, he said that sometimes “him cries.” But always, always when I ask if he knows any heroes he says, “My mom.” And if he’s proud of her? Always, that huge grin we all know and love and, “Yes!”

 

 

 

 

My youngest daughter Sophie—Cammie’s six-year-old baby sister—says it means . . .   “That I have a great sister. And that she’s fighting for our country. That makes me feel happy and proud of her.”

 

 

 

 

 

My twenty-year-old daughter, Courtney—Cammie’s first baby sister—says, “It puts into perspective all of the sacrifices that men and women make to give us freedom in this country. And makes me the proudest sister ever. Shows me Cammie’s bravery and passion.”

My husband, Joe—Cammie’s Joedaddy—responded to my question with, “Proud. Why?” Listen, he’s a man of few words. I asked him to put his answer in a sentence. So he did. “Proud to have a daughter that is deployed. Very proud.”

And me? I’m the polar opposite of my husband. My words, they are many. And freedom’s sounds, they are too. Sometimes it’s quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you ache because you miss your Girl so much. It’s the absence of her presence. Sometimes it’s a joy so loud you’re sure your heart will burst. Sometimes it’s the knot in your throat too hard to swallow, the words you lack for your grandson. It’s the tight hugs and hot tears and the empty words on your blog. It’s all of these things that I say now yet haven’t so much since this year’s beginning. It’s a dam breaking, freeing me to be honest, candid, forthright when others would shush me lest my own emotions be too much for my Girl to handle, to read.

Freedom.

It’s the sound of boxing package after package overseas. It’s brighter than the most magnificent fireworks—the blurry face of your firstborn and the thrill of those facetime and Skype video calls. It’s the frustration of static and disconnections. It’s a thousand little details tended to month after month overseas and here at home. It’s gnawing guilt when you complain about the humidity only to remember the dry desert sand under your daughter’s feet.

Freedom is not meant to be hush, hushed. And my Girl, I know her well. Brave, strong Soldier that she is. She knows well the price of freedom, serving overseas for the bulk of a year, the earth’s journey around the sun. She knows about bravery and hot, stinging tears. And this mama, she knows that honesty is freeing, too. We are a family marking days off the calendar of 2013, yet determined to embrace each one of those days. We ache, we cry, we sing kids to sleep, and hug Mommy and Sissy dolls marked with our Soldier’s face. We pray.

We pray.

And we trust in an Almighty God to not only protect our Soldier{s} but to cover us during this season. We trust that He is working all these things to our good and know that He makes all things beautiful in His time and He does all things well. All things. Even the hard things. So we trust. We trust what He is doing in us and what He is doing in our Girl.

And we are so proud. I am so proud!

For me, the sound of freedom is getting louder every day. As I grasp what it means to me as a citizen of this great nation, I am also gaining clarity of the freedom that only comes through  Christ. Freedom soars. Above the clamor of this world, its media and noise and distractions.

I’m breathing it in. And I’m breathing out thanks and praise to the One who first purchased it on Calvary’s cross. And thanks to the ones who continue to sacrifice and lay down their lives that we might fully enjoy it.

Thank you!!!

Let freedom ring!!!

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. ~ John 15:13

We love and miss you, Cammie!!! Keep your eyes on the Prize!!!

We’ll be counting down the days ’til we see you again . . .