A few years ago, I sat in my neighbor’s driveway and chatted while the kids played. My next door neighbor was there as well. It was just an ordinary afternoon.
The one woman’s husband was deployed to Iraq. My next door neighbor’s husband was TDY to Iraq. Bill was safely in Virginia (but Interstate 95/395 can be brutal, you know).
A strange car pulled into the driveway my next door neighbor and I shared. Inside were several people in Class A uniforms (not the ones from my previous post, but a more formal uniform…like what someone might wear on “official business”).
We all stopped breathing and waited.
Then the car backed out of the driveway and went back the way it had come.
We all exhaled.
“They’re for someone else,” one woman said. We went back to our ordinary talk.
I can’t imagine the additional stress a military wife has when her husband is in a combat zone. Bill was in Afghanistan for two days. I didn’t have enough time to get worried. When he deployed, it was on a peacekeeping mission to Kosovo. I had all the stress of single-parenting, but I didn’t have the daily worry about his physical well-being.
Jennie is worried about her husband. She’s been at it alone for nearly 11 months now. Her baby, a newborn infant when David left, is now a toddler. She needs our prayers. David needs our prayers. My family prays daily for “all the military people away from home,” but we’ll be adding an “especially for Sgt. C” until he’s safe in the arms of his beloved.