Laying it all down

The situation with The Husband has gotten worse.  Jobs were handed out today and he was given a little heads up about what his job will be when he reenters active duty.  The job is a slap in the face, to put it mildly.

When The Husband and I went on our little mini-spring break vacation, we agreed to a new job that he’d apply for when packets were due.  He submitted that job, along with several others in his career field.  The age waiver for his pilot packet is still pending, but the Air Force was needing additional positions he would be happy with.  He applied for several that would keep him in the fight.  Apparently, the Air Force decided The Husband would be better suited for the Chair Force.

My knickers are still in a bind.  I’ve cried enough tears today to flood the Kansas river.  My heart breaks for this man.  My dad emailed me this morning after I called the house in a panic.  He says, “After-all, The Husband is a veteran of 3 conflicts, was voted NCO of the year, almost has an AEROSPACE degree and these people want to slap him in the face and make him a paper-pusher? Hardly.”  I can always count on my dad to put it in perspective, just like I can always count on my mom to jump on my bandwagon and rally with me.

I realize that since this whole debacle has begun, I pick and choose what I want to lay at God’s feet.  It’s as if I’m grabbing my worry and pain and snatching it away from Him as He tries to take it away from me.  I don’t want to do take it back.  I want to lay it down and walk away.

I want to remember that God is bigger than this situation.

You see, I realize this… then I turn around and think some absurd thought.  I think, “Why doesn’t this colonel realize she’s ruining The Husband’s and my life.  Why doesn’t she realize she’s pushing him away from the Air Force.”  Then I rally myself and get it in my head that I’ll go talk to her.  Right.  Military Wife 101: Never interfere with The Husband’s Situation no matter what it may be.  I try to control the outcome of this whole ordeal.  As if I’m bigger than my prayers, as if I’m bigger than God.

As if.

The pattern is always the same: Silence, tears, internal screams, silence, numbness, complete and utter numbness.  Why can’t I just say, “Hey God!  I know you have a lot going on… but I really really need you to take this from me.  Apparently I’m too weak to offer it up to you.  Apparently I want to play your part in all of this and control, control, control.”  The truth of the matter is, I have to be the one to hand it over.  I have to lay it all down at his feet.  I know I do.

I do.

My spirits lift and I feel like good things will happen.  Then I think about seeing The Husband and I begin to feel guilty.  It’s my fault. We’d never be here if it weren’t for me.  He wouldn’t have given up his career to take another if I hadn’t pushed him.

But I believe we’re here because God wanted us here.

I feel like a sham, asking God to please give us some kind of answer.  I talked with an old family-friend, the highest decorated pilot to come out of Vietnam and a very influential person.  I asked my mom to call him and please relay a message that I’d like to talk to him.  I didn’t want her to explain the situation, I wanted to give him facts without emotion. The second I heard his voice my eyes filled with more tears.  He listened calmly, reassuringly and advised me to take a Valium and have The Husband call him.

I wonder, if God puts people in my path because I’m too emotional right now to hear Him. Men are so rational too.  I used to be rational.  I’m sure God is rational.

I lay it down.  I choose to live with hope in the future.  I choose to do whatever I do for the love of Christ.  Maybe… that’s exactly where I’m supposed to be.