The Pilot comes home this month. We’ve almost made it, folks. The end is in sight. This first deployment experience is quickly coming to a close.
And. I. Am. FREAKING. Out.
There are so many emotions, including, but not limited to:
As you can see from this list, I feel a bit… conflicted.
On the one, really rational and faith-filled hand, I’m so excited to have my husband back soon. I’m grateful that he’s stayed safe while he’s been gone; that the Lord kept him healthy and out of harm’s way. I am relieved that, for having been separated for upwards of four months, we stayed well-connected. The honesty of our communication, albeit limited to text messages and emails, was refreshingly real, transparent, fun when it needed to be, and serious when the time called for it. If anything, it created a deeper sense of trust when we were not able to talk and a greater sense of joy when we were able to get in touch again.
I’m looking forward to resuming life as we knew it. Breathing fresh life into old, but comfortable, routines; making a more concerted effort to make better use of our time when we’re together, continuing to build up and encourage the natural strengths of our marriage, and intentionally tackling and working through areas we know now, we want to grow in.
Then there’s the other hand. The highly emotional, not so rational, self-centered, control freak hand. The one that holds tightly to all the things I am scared of and have imagined as being completely insurmountable. It’s the crazy hand.
In no particular oder, I am scared of/that:
- Transitioning back to seeing each other everyday will be overwhelming, claustrophobic, tension-filled, etc.
- He will have changed in ways that I didn’t anticipate that may be undesirable.
- I will have changed in ways that I didn’t realize and am now less desirable.
- We will have communicated more effectively via email than we will in person.
- He will have remembered as being thinner than I am.
- He will have remembered me as being saner in general.
- He will have forgotten all my weakness while he was gone and that he’ll be sobered by the fact that I’m still a very broken and insecure person that occasionally lashes out by being passive aggressive.
- I will have forgotten how to share the space that is our home.
- I will fight to relinquish control over minor and major decisions involving money, making plans on the weekends, etc.
- He will come back to find me the same way he left me; completely unchanged, fighting the same fears, praying through the same struggles, and still naive as to what it means to be a Marine’s wife whether he’s home or away.
That last fear, that he comes home to find me no different then when he left, is the one that keeps me up at night. What if I haven’t changed at all? What if I haven’t grown, matured, or learned anything at all? What will he think when he realizes that all the goals I set for myself remain to be done?
Will I have failed him? Will he be disappointed that he’s coming home to the same woman and not a better version of me?
I can’t answer these questions for The Pilot. But if there is anything that all this thinking and projecting has surfaced, it is this one, sure truth:
The God of the Bible, loves me as I am. And no amount of self-improvement or accomplishment earns me greater standing in His sight. I am enough. Just me. In all my brokeness and insecurity, He loves me as I am, where I am.
This is the kind of love we are called to emulate in our marriages. So, if I accomplish no other goal before The Pilot gets back, may I remember everyday the love that Christ bestows upon me freely and may that be the love that I freely give to The Pilot.