I could feel the lump in my throat. The silence was deafening. The American flag looked stunning as it waved against the cloudless sky.
A lone trumpet began to play.
My husband’s shaky hand grabbed my own hand that was filled with crumpled tissues. As I turned to look him, I saw tears streaming down his cheeks. I did not want them to touch his flight suit, so I quickly wiped them away.
I noticed the silver wings placed across his upper left chest and over his heart. To the world they are symbols of his heroism and dedication to protecting our great nation. To me, they symbolize his flights in combat and his return home, alive. As I pondered this, my own tears began to fall.
As one of my fellow Air Force wives made her way up to the microphone, I began to weep. We were at her husband’s memorial service. On June 17th, 2010, we honored a hero that willingly gave his life, so “that others may live.”
“It is my duty as an Air Rescueman to save life and to aid the injured. I will be prepared at all times to perform my assigned duties quickly and efficiently, placing these duties before personal desires and comforts. These things I do, that others may live.” Brig Gen Richard Kight
This is the actual motto of the Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR) community of the US Air Force. Being a part of this community, and the military in general, has certainly made our lives interesting. For example, the military moves us every 2-3 years. This has provided us with incredible new friends from all over the United States who love and support us.
We are truly blessed.
Unfortunately, despite the many blessings, military life has also created a few challenges for me. Given that our country has been at war for awhile now, I grow weary of the impending deployments that are ever present in our daily reality. I have allowed fear, the fear of my husband dying in combat, to haunt me at times.
I especially struggled with this during our first year of marriage, when I became pregnant right before my new husband was sent overseas. Several years later, we attended the memorial service I mentioned above, and my fears resurfaced. Via prayer and support from loved ones, I was able to overcome my fear once again.
What I have come to learn about this particular area of my life is this: if my husband does not deploy, someone else’s husband, father, son, or brother may not come back from combat alive. This is what he trained for. He and the rest of his crewmembers are ready to sacrifice everything, so “that others may live.” This truth touches my heart and quiets my fear. Deployments take on a new meaning when I keep this in the forefront in my mind.
I’vealso re-examined my beliefs pertaining to death. As a Christian, I am reminded that death is not to be feared. I trust in Jesus Christ and His sacrifice for me on the cross. I believe that death is not the end for me or for my husband, it is only the beginning.
But let me be clear: I am not claiming to be Superwoman. I know this fear will rise again. I want to grow old with Chad. I want to watch our children mature and become the people God created them to be. I am human, but by working through my fear, I have realized the wondrous calling that God has given to my husband, and am reminded that my faith will sustain me should I become the heart-broken wife speaking into the microphone one day.
I pray that I will never forget June 17th, 2010. It taught me not to take any moments with my husband for granted. It reminded me of how precious life is, and that my husband deploys in order to preserve it.
This post is dedicated to my fellow military wives. May you be encouraged as you wait for your husband to return home. For those who have buried their hero, I grieve your loss. May you experience God’s comfort for the rest of your days.
