The Sacrifices of the Military Wife

We celebrate and honor the sacrifices of the men who go to war for our protection, and rightly so. There are unsung heroes, however: those women, the wives that, ultimately, the men go to war to protect. For it falls to them to carry on alone, raising the children, running the household, and suffering the heartache of separation from their love and the uncertainty of his return.

My mom amazes me; and even more so does the grace of God in upholding her through the tough times of Dad's deployments. Last time we lived in Nebraska, Dad's job was such that he could be deployed on 24-hour notice and be gone for months. I never kept track, but Mom has said that he was gone about 9 months out of the year--for 5 years.

This article is an excellent example of what thousands of women go through every day. But even then, I'm not sure that many who have not lived through it can really understand. I'm not sure I wholly understand.

And I've seen this story in several places before, but I'm going to copy it here. This is to all the military wives and moms out there, if they should happen to read it. Thank you, and may the Lord bless you for your faithful support of your husband.

When God Created the Military Wife

When the Lord was creating a military wife He ran into His sixth day of overtime. An angel appeared and said, "You're having a lot of trouble with this one. What's wrong with the standard model?"

The Lord replied, "Have you seen the specs on this order? It has to be completely independent but must always be sponsored to get on a military installation. It must have the qualities of both mother and father during deployments, be a perfect host to 4 or 40, handle emergencies without an instruction manual, cope with flu and moves all around the world, have a kiss that cures anything from a child's bruised knee to a husband's weary days, have the patience of a saint when waiting for its mate to come home and, have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands? No way." The Lord answered, "Don't worry; we will make other military wives to help. Besides, it's not the hands that are causing the problem, it's the heart. It must swell with pride, sustain the ache of numerous separations while remaining true, beat soundly even when it feels too tired to do so, be large enough to say 'I understand' when it doesn't, and say 'I love you', regardless.

"Lord," said the angel, gently touching His sleeve. "Go to bed. You can finish it tomorrow." "I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something quite unique. Already it can heal itself when sick, on a moment’s notice it will willingly embrace and feed total strangers who have been stranded during a PCS move and it can wave goodbye to its husband understanding why he had to leave."

The angel circled the model of the military wife very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.

"But tough," the Lord said excitedly. "You cannot imagine what this being can do or endure."

"Can it think?" asked the angel. "Can it think?! It can convert 1400 to 2 p.m.," replied the Lord.

Finally the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. "There's a leak," she said. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model." It's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear." "What's it for?" asked the angel. "It's for joy, sadness, pain, loneliness and pride." "You're a genius," said the angel.

Looking at her somberly, the Lord replied, "I didn't put it there."