At first it was disorienting. (“There’s no noise. How can I think, without any noise?!”)
Then, it was amusing. I realized things about myself that had never occurred to me.
… I can tell when fish is fully cooked (yet still perfectly moist) by the way it… smells. No kidding! I blame my Washington state birth for this.
… I can tell I’m tense when my chin hurts. (Evidently, my chin contains… muscles?)
… I can tell I’m dangerously lonely when I start playing too much tetris.
And so on. The realizations kept spontaneously occuring to me - usually in lonely hotel rooms and during long, silent drives.
And in lonely hotel rooms and during long, silent drives, it’s easy to sink. Easy to sulk. Easy to wish for whatever you don’t have. Easy to feel like a military misfit, because then neighbors don’t seem to be struggling to adjust… but I am…
Maybe I’m not cut out for this…?
But then, I glimpsed a tad of God's design. My overactive brain started generating reasons why the military life worked for me – lessons I can already see myself (slowly) learning. Growth that might not happen, if I didn't live this life.
1.) I get to travel – perpetually. But, like my Baseball-wife friend noted wisely, on her blog, my inherent wanderlust is satisfied. God knew that about me, (He instilled it in me!) and knew the constant flow of new people and cultures would be exciting to me. Even tho’ I’m slow to transition – I do love new places. And people!
2.) I can’t hoard. My proclivity for buying two of every item “just in case” simply can’t be sustained. We’re too nomadic. And even in our spacious current home, my pantry space is limited. My closet space is limited. Moreover, we’re constantly forced to empty our entire refrigerator/freezer/pantry, thanks to our unpredictable travel. Do you know how agonizing it is, for a frugalista like me to trash a Ketchup container that’s still half full?! Yeah. So, I’m learning not to hoard.
Sidenote: I recently realized that my hoarding is typically a sophisticated rationalization for “trying to ensure my own provision” rather than letting God kindly provide for us, one day at a time. I never thought of it that way before… but it was convicting.
3.) It evokes gratitude, for all that I do have. I love having a blender. I love having a little, tiny, itsy-bitsy pad of grass to mow and weed. I love having carpet to vacuum. I love having anything oven-baked. I love having mail to check. I love the stability of chores, the rhythm of routine…
I love when my husband IS home (I know he often won't be) and I love the (fleeting) moments when I truly trust God with this unpredictable life of ours, because He withholds NOTHING good from me, and I know He will continue to be faithful. He always has been. And I never was in control, even when I was a civilian. But, He must have known I needed this military lifestyle, to shatter my delusions of control, and to keep the fact of His goodness and provision continually in front of me.
He knew all that.... I'm just beginning to realize it.
* * *
Praise to the Lord, who o'er all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea so gently sustaineth;
Hast thou not seen
How thy desires e'er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?
- "Praise to the Lord, The Almighty"/Joachim Neander
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