“No matter what they say, it only gets harder.” Barrett was sitting in a stateroom listening to the warrant officer weep over leaving his wife and family of five once again for deployment on the Germantown. Barrett’s tears of the morning had dried up by this time while mine just started their fearless flow. This department was not as ominous as the first with its storm clouds and night covering so it should have been easier. It was a sunny morning with bright blue seas that almost looked too beautiful to be real. The gray Navy Ships lined the pier looking like a battleship board ready to be played. I sat next to some of his marines as he did the trek to load his gear alone this time. The sun was just too intense for us fair skinned ladies and we had no stroller. Besides, the marines loved to hold Annabelle and coach each other how to care for her. No matter how tough the marine, a child can break down the barrier and put a mischievous sparkle in their eye. Annabelle is no exception. I enjoyed seeing her in her little sailor outfit being cuddled by uniformed marines.
I really didn’t think that Barrett leaving this time would be difficult. After all, we have been settled in our house for a couple months, I’m no longer pregnant, and I have a buddy to care for each moment. I have good friends, a supportive church and I’ve just been through this what seems like yesterday. As I drove away from White Beach waving Barrett goodbye one last time I could hear Annabelle shuffle her feet in her car seat behind me and the road blurred ahead of me. It went on like that for the entire day (and even now as I type). The apartment that was new and cold the last time Barrett deployed, now had reminders of his presence everywhere. His shoes on the shoe rack, towel in the hamper, his side of the bed crinkled, and his office left just as he liked. The flowers he bought me for our Anniversary were still on the table as well as the movie that we had watched together the night before. The tears came shamelessly. I gathered Annabelle up in my arms and hugged her, yet that only made her wet with my tears as I thought how she wouldn’t hear him sing his diaper song or be kissed and tickled till her toothless mouth formed its gummy grin. He wouldn’t bust open the front door looking handsome in his uniform each night and we wouldn’t fight about whether to eat dinner at the table or on the couch. I wanted the night to come quickly. My mind was too tired to fight the loneliness. Crazy huh? He will only be gone for six weeks yet the addition of Annabelle has made this separation so much more difficult. How do families do this year after year?
Just before I shut the car door to leave, Barrett reminded me of something. He is not in the marines for our freedom. He does not go on deployment for the sake of the government. He leaves for the sake of the Kingdom of Christ. He leaves to make the hope of Jesus Christ known to a captive audience that is full of hurting souls. Souls that need to know that their problem of sin is forgiven through Christ. We use this same hope of the gospel to give us comfort and joy while being apart. Our satisfaction is not family time together (although I must admit, I cherish that time), but it is in Christ. In the midst of the sorrow, I am reminded of a Father whose Son left His throne to come to a hostile world where He was mocked and rejected, scorned and betrayed, and finally separated from His Father to die for a rebellious people. Yet it didn’t end there. Jesus rose from the dead conquering death and sin and was reunited with His Father in heaven where He now prays for us from His throne room, that we would persevere and be unified. So Barrett and I are strengthened and unified in this good news…this gospel. We too will continue to do our heavenly Father’s work no matter if we are together or apart.