Auto-pilot

3 months and 2 weeks. That's all we have left in this deployment. It seems so short, and yet sometimes it lingers. There is a light at the end of this tunnel...and it's NOT a train! I was reading back through some of my earlier posts during this deployment. And I must admit that my "fresh legs" at the start of this journey are weary. My sharp and keen mindset has become clouded and fuzzy. My enduring spirit has wavered from time to time. I had dreams and plans (many of which were unrealistic, I'm sure…yeah, I'm prone to do that, just ask Chaplain) for this deployment that seemed amiable and well-intentioned…and still do. But now I feel that in some ways I am on auto-pilot and this is now just about survival. I think what I am feeling and experiencing is normal, but I am treading with caution – for I don't want to miss any of the beautiful sights the Lord has for us along the way while my "cruise control" is on. On a lighter note, I was thinking to myself today (okay, maybe talking…out loud…to myself. Do not judge meJ) "We have been at this for 9 months now and seems like it's time for something to be birthed, er somethin'!" Just tryin' ta keep it light!

To my sweet boy…you have endured this hardship as a soldier. And still you have yet to come to the place where you have worked through and accepted it. As of late you seem so discontented, restless, unsettled. I long to see you satisfied and at peace. I wish I had the words to speak deep into your soul and tell you, "Daddy is coming home. Soon. All is well, you are loved." But alas, words are not enough for you right now. Each day you are on the prowl for "bad guys" at our house. You dress in your Army ACU's and your PT duds like a faithful soldier. If I give you one of something, you ask for two. If I suggest left, you insist right. You long to be the leader amongst your peers and you have a voice which you demand be heard. I too wish someone would whisper into my soul as well, telling me how to best love you and be to you what Daddy can't right now. So I place you into the hands of the capable Father, who watches over you night and day. Who sees your restless heart and knows your frustrations. He alone can satisfy the longings of your heart. He alone can protect you from the bad guys. And He alone can make you into the man you'll grow to be someday. I love you with all the motherly love within me, son. The times we have spent together doing projects, making crafts, cooking Jello Jigglers, reading Bible stories, building Lincoln Logs are like nuggets of gold, a value that will only increase with the years.

To my darling girl…you look like an angel! But I'm sorry to say that you often don't act like one. It is nothing that time won't fix, for you are nearing the dreaded two's. And those nasty colds which plague you often make you oh-so-cranky. You love your brother and can say his name with perfect speech. He is the first thing on your mind in the mornings and you call for him to come eat at our breakfast table. You are capable of SO many big girl feats, but you love to stretch your arms straight up to me – the signal to "hold me!" You seem less affected by Daddy's absence, but you are the first to point him out in any picture in our home. You are a joy to dress each day and your hair is your crowning glory. Not a day goes by that you don't touch my heart and make me smile. I find myself staring at you sometimes because you are truly beautiful. Anytime I plop down you see my lap as fair game for sitting. And you are deliciously ticklish. I think you have your daddy's arms, for those triceps did NOT come from me. When I drop you off at chapel or mother's-morning-out, you enter the room, turn around to give me a hug and kiss, and then turn back to your friends. Thank you for sparing me the Separation Anxiety Phase. That is incredibly sweet of you. And I mean that. I love you too with all my motherly love, lovely one.

Y'all, I know I'm prejudiced, but come on…SHE'S CUTE!!