See You Again

If you’re a military family, you understand those “See you again,” moments. They aren’t just the hugs and kisses that are given right before boarding the plane. They are moments that encompass about a 2 week period before leaving. They are the moments that you capture to hold as memories when you’re far away.

They begin when you start to think, “What will I miss?” Tim would miss C.’s first feeding, the first crawl, possibly the first steps. He’d miss Valentines’ Day, my birthday, Easter, Memorial Day, and maybe C.’s first birthday. So, we try to cram in as much of the milestones as possible before he leaves. C. ate cereal for the first time the morning Tim left. The book (you know, THE book-“What to Expect the First Year”) said that babies will usually only eat a couple of bites that first feeding. Not C.-he ate the whole 2 oz. bowl! There were some messy memories made there. Good friends babysat C. so that Tim and I could go out on a nice "Valentine’s Day" date Thursday night. We didn’t paint Easter eggs, though, or force C. to walk, but we did cherish every moment.
















My mom sent me an email about Maya Angelou this morning, and I got to thinking about her works: the strong woman she presents in “Phenomenal Woman,” the enlightenment she reaches in “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,” and most notably in my thoughts, “Amazing Peace,” the poem she read at the Christmas tree lighting ceremony at the White House this year. It is a 30 something page long plea for peace.

Arguments for war and arguments against war have gone on since the very first war, I imagine.
I don't have any desire to debate war here. I'll always question whether or not it is justified to fight and kill for earthly freedoms, when there is a greater, heavenly freedom that transcends the strongest inprisonments. I'll always question those who say, "Freedom isn't free," because I know that the freedom God gave me through His son IS free. If you locked me up in an Iraqi prison without a Bible, a gun, or a voice, I would still be gloriously free. No one can touch that which He gave me. At the same time, I'll always cry when the American tank cranks down the consentration camp alley in the movie "Life is Beautiful" to save the little jewish boy. And when Tim is gone, I'll always look at a painting I bought on the streets of Saigon of an Afghan woman whose face, all except her eyes, are completely covered in dark blue fabric. I look at that painting and smile because I know that she doesn't have to wear that anymore. The movie "Osama" has a happy ending that isn't in the film, and that heals part of my broken heart from Tim's absense.

This weekend, Martin Luther King Jr's holiday, is a time when people speak up for civil disobedience. Afterall, there's a reason why we celebrate Martin Luther King day and not Malcolm X day. I look at my picture of Aung San Suu Kyi, read proverbs by Ghandi and the Dalai Lama, and Jesus. I respect those peaceful teachings greatly. On the other hand, if someone were to harm my son because of the color of his skin, ignoring the content of his character, I'd be mad. Fighting mad.

Obviously, I don’t know all the answers, just like God said I wouldn't. "The foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength," 1 Cor. 1:25. And Solomon, a King much wiser than me, said, "There's a time for war, and a time for peace." Though Jesus said, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Of course, later in the same paragraph, He said, "Be perfect, therefore, as your Heavenly Father is perfect." Matt. 5:43ff. Me-perfect? Not yet. Until we reach perfection, there are somethings we can agree upon. We can be happy that little Afghan girls can go to school now. Women can walk down the street without fear of being stoned to death for showing their ankles. Music returned to the streets of Kabul, Iraqi torture chambers have been turned into hospitals, and middle-eastern elections are held with hundreds of candidates, people giddy at the thought of democracy. I’m proud of my husband for contributing to this; for helping to free the oppressed, and I hope all of the "see you again moments" we created before he left see him through hard days. There is one other thing that all of us mortals can agree to do, those of us who fight and those of us who write. We can pray for peace, and we can pray for those who are far away, like Tim. Or as Maya Angelou put it, “Angels and Mortals, Believers and Nonbelievers, look heavenward, and speak the word aloud. Peace.”

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day.