The Empty Manger

A few years ago, my friend gave me a manger scene for Christmas. Each piece was individually wrapped and placed in a bag with a number on it, to be opened in sequence. On each bag was written a line from “The Nativity Song” in the Primary Children’s Songbook that coincided with its contents. Every year, this is the part of the countdown my children and I look forward to most.

We sing “The Nativity Song” and unwrap one bag each day, then place the piece in the stable. Every year, the cattle, oxen, shepherds, wise men, Joseph and Mary gather around the empty manger, waiting expectantly for the Christ child. I study this scene each year and wonder what would have happened if the manger stayed empty? I look at the small manger with its swaddling clothes lying bare on the straw, with no Christ child for it to cradle, and I rejoice each year as we unwrap the baby Jesus and place him gently in his place.

It is fitting that he is wrapped as if a gift, and that he is the last and most important piece of the scene, perfectly completing the peaceful picture. How empty would our lives be if his place in the manger had remained unfilled? A meaningless, cruel world would fill his spot in our hearts. Instead of that powerful source of hope and comfort, our mangers would be filled with sorrow and hopelessness. My heart is filled with gladness and gratitude that he chose to come to earth and fill that empty manger with his message of love and peace. May we all take a few moments each day this month to feel gratitude that the manger did not remain empty.

“See the dear baby, of Bethlehem, Little Lord Jesus, the Savior of men!”

God Bless America

Happy Independence Day everyone. This year our Independence Day overlaps with a family reunion, so the day hasn't gotten quite the individual attention that it usually does for us, but we still managed to take some time and reflect on why we celebrate this magnificent day in our country's history.

My children constantly ask me to tell them stories. Quite a while ago the old fairy tales got boring and my brain ran out of anything imaginative, so I started to tell them about history. Those are now their favorite kind of stories to hear. Every year I retell them all I know about the founding of our country, which isn't as much as it should be, but it's enough to let them know how grateful we should be to live in this free land.

Through my telling of these stories, I remind myself of all those who created this one nation, under God. I imagine our founding fathers look down on us all and weep over what we have done with the great gift of a democratic government they gave us. It is crumbling beneath our feet. Our life, liberty and pursuits of happiness have led us to greed and corruption. Granted, there are a few honest politicians who work to truly serve the people, but they are few and far between. The reason for all this is simple: we are forgetting God, who is the true founder of our nation. Whatever form God may take for people--a Higher Power, a Mother Nature, an Allah, a Buddha--He is being replaced by the cry of selfishness and immorality.

Those prosperous years that followed September 11th were caused by an upswing in the economy, yes, but mostly by a return of the people to faith, to love, and to unity. That feeling has fallen away already. How quick we are to forget.

But I am still grateful to live in this free land and I will strive to keep my loved ones close, no matter how the world around me crumbles away. I know that as we strive to love and serve one another, we will make it through whatever lies before us and emerge a better, happier people for it. As long as we remember the one who is greater than us all.

God Bless America!

Muchness

Life is so very fascinating. That's a perfect word to describe the ups and downs and topsy turvyness of it all. For a while I got stuck inside my own head. It was so very crowded in there, to borrow a term from Tim Burton's Alice In Wonderland.

I love that movie. Aside from the fantastic visual effects, the dialogue and theme of the film appealed greatly to me. Everyone in that world is mad, crazy, bonkers. Even the "sane" people are insane. I could relate to every character in that movie for that very reason: I am crazy, too. But, don't you know, all the best people are. :)

Who wants to be "normal" (if there is such a thing) anyway? I enjoy my craziness, my insanity. What would my life be without it? I'd make no progress, be thoroughly dull, and who--I ask you, who--would dare play rarfuldunkflijjerbob with my kids? No one. They would be rarfuldunkflijjerbobless. So I'll take may insanity and keep it, too, thank you very much.

It's who I be.

Remembering

Lately, I've been relearning a lot of things. As life gets "easier" and I let my guard down, things seem to creep in, slowly, sneakily. Cetain things, certain "triggers" I instantly react to, and the red flag flies high. I immediately raise my defenses to those triggers and am determined never to take those bullets again. But other things, seemingly smaller things, I let in, bit by bit, until I start to lose my grip and have to regain my focus before I even really know it's gone.

It can be tricky, this balancing act I perform. But it doesn't have to be. That's the frustrating thing. I know what to do to stay focused, to keep my priorities straight. Shockingly, though, I'm imperfect and naturally quite lazy. It's so much easier to watch a movie with the kids than go to my support meetings. After all, my kids "need" me. Ah, but I am a better mother and wife when I take care of myself. It's so much easier to just cater to my family than to deny them any want, even though it takes more out of me than I have to give.

I already know what I need to do and how to do it. Honestly, it's as simple as going to bed at a decent hour and making sure I get my vegetables each day. I make sure it happens for the kids, but, for some reason, it's so much harder to make it happen for myself.

And that train of thought lets me know that it's time to get back on track, to re-start, to make changes--again. It's a good thing, though. It's good to remember being better and being worse, to appreciate how far I've come--how far my family has come--and to understand how much farther we have the opportunity to go.

Most of all I am ever grateful to know what strength lies behind me, before me, within me, and that I can simply call on Him, let Him in, and He will make me what He needs me to be.

All I need do is remember.

A Summary Ending and a New Beginning

We made it through that deployment with love and support from an abundance of family and friends and a loving Heavenly Father. Braden made it home for the birth of our son, leaving after his two week leave only to return and surprise me some months later with a very lucky and rare opportunity to have a second leave. I can honestly say that was the best surprise I have ever had.

Then, some months after that, our husband and father came home to us for good and we felt all would be well forever after, that we would live our lives in rays of sunshine and fields of daisies. We soon found out the only sure thing about life is its unpredictability.

Braden has now been home from Iraq for four years and we are still putting the pieces of our lives together. Through much work and love, sweat and tears, we made it to where we are now. Only a soldier's wife could understand the battles we have fought since his homecoming, the victories we have earned, and the defeats we have suffered. Each day we encounter new struggles and new triumphs. But we are together in spite of it all, and better and stronger for it.

And, sometimes, the rays of sun shine down on us and I smell a hint of daises.

Together Again for A Moment

The next time we saw each other was a few weeks later in California. Braden's unit was there, finishing up their training, so another wife and I got together and drove out to pick our soldiers' up, instead of waiting another day for them to drive home. One thing to be understood about these kinds of situtations is that every moment is precious. If one more hour, one more moment can be had, we take it, no matter the cost!

I was nervous to make the drive. I had been able to avoid ever driving anywhere more than a few miles outside of my hometown, and I would be driving a borrowed vehicle in California traffic! Things went fairly smoothly, though, and I wasn't required to drive through any big cities, other than Vegas. That in itself is an adventure, but we survived! We did have one situation where we had to pull over to the side of the road and take care of some kid issues. Finally, we arrived at the base safe and mostly sound, went through the checkpoint, and searched for our soldiers. There they were, walking along the side of the road, handsom in their uniforms, eyes lit up as they recognized us.

It's a funny thing to be reunited after weeks or months of separation. I felt kind of shy, like a first date feeling, though I was carrying his child, had given birth to another, and we had been married for 2 1/2 years! The shy feeling was quickly overcome as he held me tightly in his arms and we remembered each other again.

We were able to book a room at the hotel on base. This was another little miracle because we had called rather late and at first nothing was available, then only smoking rooms were available (me being pregnat, that wasn't going to work), then, at last, after a few more phone calls, a suitable room opened up. I'm wondering if the front desk just kicked someone out of a room so I would quit calling!

After we checked in to our rooms, the guys took us on a tour of the base. It was a fairly depressing place and I felt for the sodiers who had to spend weeks and months there, training and looking forward to nothing but more of the same or worse after getting to Iraq. They had a small movie theater and a couple of fast food restaurants as well as a small shopping center to buy odds and ends. The soldiers whose families' couldn't come pick them up stayed outside in large tents filled with bunk beds. There were outhouses scattered every few hundred yards outside the tents and a few small kiddie pools where soldiers sat on folding chairs, cooling their tired feet. I almost wished I hadn't come and seen how Braden had been living. If it was like this training in the US, how would it be overseas in the middle east?

"Tank Crossing"

Saying Goodbye

The first time we said goodbye was the easiest. We didn't know what to expect and we knew we'd be seeing each other again in the next couple of months after Braden was done with his training and before the deployment to Iraq. We drove to the airport, hugged, kissed, cried, took pictures, and away he flew, into the unknown.


We talked daily. While Braden was in the states training he had a cell phone and easy access to pay phones, so things weren't that bad at the beginning. I sent him pics of our growing girl and my growing belly, along with lengthy emails detailing our days and how he was missed. Not too much of the missing stuff, though, as it helped none of us to dwell on that. We purchased a video camera right before he left and I documented with that as well.

Just a month and a half after Braden left, we had the opportunity to fly out to a city near his base and visit on one of his weekends off. Plane ticket prices were atrocious, but it was worth every penny and more to see him, hold him, and laugh with him again, just for a couple of days. In the days before we flew out, I went back and forth quite a bit, trying to decide if I should take my one year old with me or not. I decided to take her in the end and am so glad I did. She was such an angel the whole trip, sleeping most of the time every plane ride, and behaving so well all the rest of the time. She was so excited to see her daddy when he met us at the hotel and ran straight into his arms. We saw all the sights we could cram into the weekend and enjoyed ourselves immensely. Then came time to say good bye once again. This time was much, much harder. We now knew the loneliness, the aching, the changes we would be parting for, and we did not want it, but, like I said before, someone had to do it and it was a sacrifice we had to make.

My heart seemed to be ripping apart as we drove away to catch our flight the last morning of our trip. Braden stood at the curb of the hotel, his hand raised in farewell, visibly fighting back the tears. I cannot explain the emotions, they were too overwhelming to be able to put into words. All I can say is that I never wanted to feel them again. But there were more goodbye's to come, more new emotions to feel and learn from in the ensuing months.

The cab driver was friendly and tried to make conversation when we first began our drive, but I didn't trust myself to speak, or even think. I just sat staring out the window, my baby girl in my arms, struggling with tears and realizing Braden wouldn't hold his baby girl again for many more weeks. After that, who knew how long it would be before he felt her chubby little arms around his neck and her sweet little voice saying his name.

After we arrived at the airport it was easier. My mind was busy with checking luggage, finding our gate and entertaining a baby. Addy made a friend at the airport, a little boy about 3 years old who loved her bright green shirt and followed her all around the terminal. His parents ended up being retired from the Navy and they sympathized with my plight. I was ever grateful for someone who understood what it was like and gave such words of encouragement and hope. I needed it then and would rely on others more than ever as my true journey as a soldier's wife began.