My internet dormancy might make it seem as if I’ve gone away, but the actuality is that this couldn’t be further from the truth.
No, I haven’t abandoned yet another blogging endeavor, but have instead been using my time away to get all introspective on my intentions, and where I’m at in life. I’ve also been fruitlessly trying to keep a diaper on my two year old, but this is neither here nor there…
We’ve been in and out of church for most of January, which seems to be the one month of the year where all of us get slammed with some rendition of the flu.
Somewhere in the midst of dirty tissue, vomit buckets and Lysol, I decided to try my hand at working with teens at our church. The more I delve back into church life, I’m better able to recall the zeal and enjoyment I find in enveloping myself in that world.
There was a time years ago when I toyed with the idea of making a career out of working as a youth minister, or something along those lines, though for several reasons I dismissed it. Still, I’ve never ceased to feel gratitude toward my youth minister, and the young college women who volunteered to make our Wednesday nights worth remembering.
Ours is a society that tends to discount teenagers. Existing in the limbo between childhood and adulthood, no one seems to know what to do with them. Alas, if only we would stop and remember how impressionable and thoughtful teenagers are.
I’m praying that these feelings and notions root themselves further within me, in hopes that my own kids’ teen years might be more bearable for them. I’d much rather them realize that their mother is not their misunderstanding parent, but rather as their biggest advocate in life.
Everyone deserves to be viewed in such a way. Considering my children have quite a way to go, I think I’ll just relish each of their life stages, and see about being there for others, along the way.
2 Samuel 14:14.
All of us must die eventually. Our lives are like water spilled out on the ground, which cannot be fathered up again. That is why God tries to bring us back when we have been separated from Him. He does not sweep away those He cares about–and neither should you!
Growing up, I was always told to relish wherever I was in life, since my impending adulthood would inevitably fly by. Though I never exactly dismissed the thought, it wasn’t until recently that I began to understand its truth, either.
So here we are. Five years into the the military, with at least five more lying ahead. Beyond that is anybody’s guess.
With reading other milspouse blogs comes the realization that some of these couples are destined to be military lifers. At this point, anyway, they seem to have it all figured out. Unafraid of the uprooting whimsy that is military life, they look at their future and accept its contractual, yet indefinite terms together.
The more I think about it, I envy them.
While it’s possible that our affair with the Air Force could last just as long, it remains uncertain. We look ahead one contract at a time, not knowing what comes next. It’s only after life quickly sweeps more time under the rug that we realize it’s time to make that decision about reenlistment at least one more time.
Perhaps all I need is a perspective adjustment, but some days this leaves me unable to look past the years of my husband’s current contract. We’re living life to its fullest and preparing for the future, but after a certain point I find myself staring into the infinite abyss.
Ah, but isn’t that the truth for us all? Sure, it looks different to everyone, but no one is exempt from questioning what will become of them in the future.
It seems that the best I can do is make my plans, see them through, and accept that this is simply the structure and foundation needed for life to create something bigger than me.