WHAT ABOUT ME: WHEN IT ISN'T FAIR THAT THEY GET TO DO ALL THE DANGEROUS STUFF
Why is it that he's the one who gets to go to all the dangerous stuff? How would he feel if I was the one flying off to the other side of the world for a year and charging into the fray, leaving him behind to sit at home and go to work like a normal person in my absence? Why is he the only one allowed to risk his life? What about ME?
These are all questions I have asked. I'm not proud of them, but they're real, and being real is more important than being proud anyway. I guess you could say this was in the anger stage of grief when I was processing pre-deployment. I wasn't really angry - I was sad. I am so proud of my husband and wouldn't take back this life for anything (though sometimes I wish I could tweak it a little). And don't get me wrong, I most certainly do NOT want to be doing ruck marches or sitting in towers, and nobody in the military would want me doing military things either. I could do some damage with a pistol, but that's about where my usefulness would end. I think really what I wanted was to feel important and purposeful. To feel appreciated or to make a point. I was frustrated.
I asked my husband once if I was in the military, what job he would put me in. It was supposed to be a fun question, but he got really serious and said he would put me behind a desk somewhere stateside because it is safest. So naturally I got unreasonably defensive and thought to myself, oh okay, so it's okay for me to have to worry about you but not okay for you to have to worry about me. And then I continued on my all-about-me train, because hey, it had already left the station so I might as well barrel down that track, right? So I thought, well, I know I wouldn't be good at military stuff nor would I want to do it or be wanted to do it, but there are other dangerous things I could be doing! What if I went to a dangerous place as a missionary where it is illegal to be Christian or talk about Jesus and I could be put in jail or killed? After all, being a missionary overseas was what I expected I would be doing for quite a while growing up and then I was surprised to find I'd sort of been set in the States long-term. How would my husband handle that? If God told me to, maybe even for a year or something say when he's deployed, he'd have to deal. There are things I'm willing to die for too. It's not just him. Look at me!
After using serving Jesus as a ploy to wallow in bitterness and self-pity for a while, I saw the ridiculous hypocrisy of what I was doing and the inane selfishness I was displaying - like a toddler. "How come HE gets more ice cream, mommy?" I was jealous of the fact that during our time apart in various deployments he would be going to new places and being adventurous and seemingly doing more and being interesting while I was doing none of those things. This perspective is made more ludicrous by the fact that now, nearly 2 months into deployment, I know he works long hours doing mundane tasks, is often bored, misses home and me while I miss him but am at least home with friends and comforts, he has to do all of these things in crazy amounts of heat, humidity, and sand being blown in his face by smothering hot air.
I considered the "why" beneath my reaction, and saw in a new way how we are made to live lives of action and purpose. My life is busy and comfortable, but not full of action. I have a greater purpose beyond meeting the upcoming academic or work deadline next week, but do not often operate in light of that truth. Life done right will be an adventure no matter what setting you are placed in. Life with Christ is always an adventure! It is true that there are things I am willing to die for, but those things are sacred and should never be used to further my own agenda; in fact, doing so immediately ruins the purpose I claim to love so much, like cutting off the branch I am sitting on.
We are made to live lives of action and purpose...life done right will be an adventure no matter what setting you are placed in.
In that time, I considered the riches of who God is and saw myself as small. Any time we consider who God really is, we see a more accurate view of ourselves and suddenly whatever pride we were clinging so tightly to turns to ash. I challenged myself to think about whether or not I really was willing to die for Jesus, were He to ask me, and I found that I wasn't so sure anymore. I liked my comfort, and my husband's fear of losing me would almost make it irresponsible to do something dangerous, right? Wrong. If God calls me, I do it not to make a point but to serve the One to whom I owe my all. What's the worst that could happen? I could die. And be with Jesus face to face. I could hold the hands that have held me all my life, touch the scars that brought me up out of my helpless, desolate state, and truly live. Saying no would be saying no to life. Living without Jesus or outside of His will and peace is not living at all. To live fearlessly and boldly for a purpose greater than ourselves is the only way to live.
I don't need to be known, to be appreciated, to be famous. I have a purpose right where I am, and so does my courageous husband where he is. There is a reason I am here and not somewhere else. All I need is Jesus, who is absolutely everything. Whether I stand one day before someone who demands I renounce Christ or die, and He gives me strength to proclaim His glorious name once more in my final earthly moments before praising Him forever in my heavenly ones, or I live out a life physically safe and with all the comforts of the modern world at my fingertips, I pray that I might always be willing. I pray that I will always live with the passion and abandon that comes with a purposeful and peace-filled life found only through the blood-stained hands of Jesus.
I read the story of a man once that was to be martyred by being burned at the stake, and in his cell he put his finger in the flame of a candle to see what it felt like and whether he would be able to withstand it. He couldn't, and took away his finger, at a loss. But it was not yet his time, and the Lord had not given him the strength he needed yet because He does so in the moment we need it. I can do nothing on my own, but know He grants strength to His people.
I wrote this poem in May after being struck by who Jesus is, how He loves me in spite of myself, and how desperately I desire to follow after Him no matter the cost and truly live.
LET MY NAME BE NEVER KNOWN
FROM MY BIRTH UNTIL I'M GROWN
BUT LET ME SEE YOUR FACE
THAT I MAY LIVE WITH YOU IN GRACE
AND AS I START TO LIVE TODAY
THOUGH MY BODY FADES AWAY
I WILL GLORY IN THE PRESENCE
OF MY KING WHO SAVED HIS PEASANTS
I MAY LIVE, OH WHAT A WHISPER
I MAY DIE, THAT GREAT ADVENTURE
LET ME DO THY WILL AT BIDDING
NO MATTER WHAT YOU FIND IS FITTING
I WILL STEP INTO YOUR SKIN
THOUGH I FEAR WHAT LIES WITHIN
IF YOU ASK ME, GENTLE JESUS
LET ME FEEL THE FLAGRUM PIERCE US
LET MY LIPS BECOME YOUR LIPS
LET MY HEART NOT FAIL AT WHIPS
AND THOUGH I DIE BY SUCH A SCOURGE
LET OUR BOND BE DEEPER FORGED.
"If you do not stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all." - Isaiah 7:9b
Once And For All, by Lauren Daigle
This has spoken to me lately and is along the same vein. I hope it speaks to you as well.