He heals the brokenhearted
and bandages their wounds.

(Psalm 147:3 NLT)

I spent a good portion of today with tears.  My heart has been extra tender, maybe it was the worship music reminding me of God’s love, mercy and grace, maybe it was missing my husband, or perhaps it was a combination.  Last Sunday when we were leaving the airport, both my teenage sons had already lost the battle against their own tears [it’s impossible not to when they see their own father cry as well, it truly lets loose the waterworks for all of us].  I was trying to drive home and since the weather was matching our emotions, I was fighting myself and refusing to cry.  Once we get home, my routine is to crawl in our bed and cry myself to sleep after my husband’s flight departs.  But this time I didn’t, I fell asleep on the couch because I wanted to be with our sons while they were distracting themselves with video games.  It’s basically a form of mourning we go through.

Times like this I do not how any women make it married to men in this line of work without God –  I could not (nor would I want to) attempt this lifestyle without God!  I’m a strong woman, I know this, and my strength comes from Christ.  Eight long years, we’ve been doing this – eight years this time around.  Our marriage began when we both were Active Duty in the Army, our oldest was born while my husband was stationed apart from us for 13 months in Korea (I won’t add in the years or months from military schools or training apart), added to that another 7 1/2  years working nights with the Sheriff’s Dept (I’m not sure how my husband made it through sleep deprivation with a newborn and a toddler, or how our kids managed to play with constant ‘Shhhhh, Daddy’s sleeping’). Can I tell you how much I really miss sleeping with my husband – get your mind out of the gutter (although that part is greatly missed) – I’m talking about laying your head down and having your husband next to you; to tell you they love you, to hold you when you’ve had rough day, and to just feel their presence – to feel secure.

I don’t say all this for sympathy – because each and every one of us have our own battles – and believe me, this isn’t all of ours.  I say all this because I know I’m not the only one who puts on a brave face and smiles when people comment on how strong you are; when in reality you just want to cry.   Those times that we feel we can’t share our sorrows – just remember the One who created you, longs to hear from you, He knows your tears, and He knows your heart – just call on Him, He’s waiting.

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.

(Psalm 56:8 NLT)


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