Our story: Quiet Waters

I read the 23rd Psalm last night. I've read it a million times, of course. It's a pretty common one. I even have it memorized, like most kids who grew up in Awana do. But last night, verse 2 really stuck out to me. Specifically the second line, "He leads me beside quiet waters."

My family loves water. We love it all-rivers, lakes, oceans...ponds...tributaries...puddles. All of it. We've spent a lot of quality family time next to water. When we lived on the East Coast we were able to go to the beach pretty often, and we loved to do that together. One of our favorites was Rehobeth Beach in Delaware. It was about a 2 hour drive from our home in Silver Spring, Maryland, so we would leave early and spend the day there playing in the sand with Caleb and Nate, and then we would eat at Cracker Barrel before coming home. Sweet memories!

Now that we live in Alaska, we aren't really close enough to any beaches to go very often. I don't think Alaska's beaches are really suited to the kind of beach activities that East Coast-ers (I made a word!) are used to, anyway. But we have so many beautiful rivers and ponds! We have found so many lovely little spots where the water is so calm and quiet. One of our family's favorite summer activities is to find a nice spot by some water and grill some dinner, roast marshmallows, wade around until our feet hurt from the cold, explore up and down the shore, and, of course, skip rocks! Many times, I have sat beside a gorgeous river or lake and just closed my eyes and taken in the quiet peacefulness of it. Stillness, calm and quiet.

Last spring, Eric and I were tremendously blessed in being able to take a just-the-two-of-us trip to Maui for our (early) 10th Anniversary. While we were there, we visited the famous Black Sand Beach. Very cool place! The ocean there is very dangerous, though. They had signs up warning against swimming. The surf is very rough, there are huge rocks everywhere, and there are sharks and man of war jellyfish in the water.

The water at the Black Sand Beach in Maui is definitely not quiet. It is always violently churning. Waves crash down on the jagged rocks constantly. There are many dangers below, hidden by the wild thrashing of the surface. It's very loud, very unsafe water. If I had to classify this deployment as any type of water, that would be it.

There are the obvious fears and pain that buffet me constantly-separation from the most important person in my life, extended lack of communication with him, news of casualties and catastrophic injuries. The constant wondering if the next moment will be the one where I hear the life-changing knock on my front door. The discouragement of having to handle all of the parenting and running of the household alone. Every diaper change, every bad dream, every meal, every load of laundry, every juice stain in the carpet, every trip to the store, every doctor's appointment...all of these things and everything else, I have to handle, with no partner to support me in it when I become overwhelmed. What we army wives affectionately call "Murphy's Law of Deployment" (if it can break, explode, lose it's mind, disintegrate, run away with the spoon, or otherwise cause significant stress to you while your husband is deployed, it WILL) has slammed me recently with both of our cars breaking down within days of each other. The hand injury I sustained trying way too many times to start our worthless lawn mower is going from bad to worse and is really becoming a source of frustration for me. The list goes on.

And then roiling below the surface is the paralyzing sense of dread that the worst could happen at any moment, and that what I now see as a temporary hardship will become permanent. I'm not going to go in-depth about that fear and all the million different aspects of it, because it's too painful, but it is there, and there are many times where I feel like it's just waiting to devour me.

Yes, I can say that I do feel battered and tossed about by the violent sea that is this deployment.

But...

"He leads me beside quiet waters."

Such truth in those words! The long, harsh, lonely nights afford me the perfect opportunity to steal away from the chaos of everyday life and find a quiet place alone with God. If only I would choose to take it more often! His Word is living and active and it speaks fresh wisdom and comfort to me every time I open it. I find there the hope that absolutely nothing in this life is permanent. Good things pass away, but so does pain, and one day pain will pass away forever (can I get an Amen??). I find the hope that I will most definitely see Eric again, even if my worst fear comes true. I find comfort in knowing that this trial we are going through is being used by God to bring about good. And that no matter how scary things get, we are each held solidly in the palm of His hand, from which we can never be removed. I find that nothing can harm me or my family. Things may happen that feel harmful, but God in His infinite wisdom allows them to happen out of love, because He knows that there is not harm in them, but good. Good that I will one day understand.

In Him I find peace. He takes my soul from this: