The Call

It’s 2:00 pm ish on Monday. I get a call from Barrett asking if I can talk because he has some important news. “They want me to be on a boat tomorrow to go to Haiti in order to give aide after Hurricane Matthew for three weeks.” Um, what? Then I asked which boat he would be on since we know most of the boat captains. “None of ours, it’s coming from Florida.” “Don’t they have their own chaplain?” My quick question asking responses did not help in this exchange. He didn’t have a lot of time to talk as he had to wrap up things at his office in order to come home and pack.

Three weeks. I started to process. It’s not a lot of time as far as deployments go, in fact, many spouses here live in a 3 week out, 3 week home cycle that leaves their heads spinning. I can’t complain. This is where Barrett’s ministry thrives: meeting his people in the midst of hardship to be a light, confidant, hope giver, and gospel sharer. Then I worked through the sovereignty of God knowing that He controls all things and sees us. He is a good God who will sustain our family in all circumstances. OK, foundational points laid firm…now practically, how do I prepare the kids and me for our first stint alone for that long? Will any events need to change? Do I need to take over any commitments? What do I need to do to help Barrett get ready to go in 16 hours? Will he be in the zone or wanting to spend time with the kids one last time?

He gets home and begins to pack. I ask him if I need to make him breakfast to go? Once the answer was yes, I asked him to please make sure he rinses out his fruit shake cup because it will harden and stink in his car. He stops, stares, and lets his mouth drop a little. “Really Colleen? You want me to think about a cup right now?” Um…yes, I think. “Have you processed through what I am going to be doing?” Um…no. Just kinda what I need to prep for our family. Slowly his viewpoint enters my own. I shift my thinking from our own immediate family and needs to what the Haitians are going to be experiencing in a few hours. Rain and wind that will laugh at their tin roofed huts and lack of infrastructure, perhaps people dying in horrific ways, and our guys being the first on the scene to help these people through it.

Oh my heart. How do we process our daily bread, verses those experiencing a catastrophe an island away? How do I work through appointments, food shopping, and fixing dinner while many souls are losing their homes and livelihood? How do I deal with unthankful hearts over a dinner served verses children raiding a store for food because theirs is gone? It’s almost too much for my brain to handle.

Barrett and I worked it out and he was able to finish packing, eat dinner, and play with the kids before putting them down. We watched a show and talked like it was another night to enjoy the normalcy before everything changes. I don’t know what he will see, hear, or have to do there, but that is why we joined the military, to serve like Christ when called and be a light in dark places.

“I don’t know when I will be able to contact you.” Ok. We said our morning goodbye after I prayed for and over him. “Love you!” We both echoed.