I admit it ... before I set out on this journey called Deployment, the fears I had compiled in regards to the experiences I'd have and my ability to handle them were many ... topping the list was a large dollop of doubt that I'd be able to even enjoy my life apart from Will and away from the help of family. This led me to believe that all I could really hope for was to simply survive the seven months the best I could ... stay alive and healthy, keep the kids alive and happy, keep my head down, do my chores and wait for it to be over. These feelings included the thought and hope that people would be praying for us and that God would graciously help us through as well. I had never been through a deployment with children before and the last one I "lived" through was 5 months of mostly misery. I expected intense loneliness ... I envisioned a desert ... I saw days and nights full of tears and anguish, just trying to keep going ... I said in a previous post, "I feel like I believe that God could move an actual, physical mountain, more than I believe he can make deployment a happy time for me."
The only vision I know of to express the truth of what I actually feel most days, and realize overall, is that of a type of baptism ... where the sun has set on the thoughts and fears that I had, and has beautifully risen, still just on the horizon, with the reality and beauty that is still my life, even a life miles away from my love ... now I know He can move mountains because He did what I believed to be impossible during this time in my life ... He has made me glad.