Holding My Breath

Today was a day that I wanted to throw my hands up in the air and say, "I quit." 

Nothing horrible happened. The boys had a good day. I made it to church on time. They played in the sprinkler with other neighborhood kids. I spent an hour or two with friends. I cleaned my car. 

There was nothing about today that warranted an "I'm done," but I felt it anyway.

So much of us - so much of our life - feels like it is on hold. So many decisions aren't being made because of how many unknowns are facing our little family. So many things are looming over our heads and pressing against my thoughts. I am very much beginning to feel the weight.

C put in some papers yesterday that could change his path in this life. I know how much he struggled with submitting them. I know how much part of him truly believes this is the right thing to do - something he has to do - but I also know how difficult it will be to make this change. But the change may be necessary to stay in this life. 

And for a moment I felt like I exhaled. I felt like I could let that part go and give it God. 

And in the same moment I sucked that air back in because the change may not happen. Or it may not matter. Or it may happen but nothing about it will take effect for another year or two. Or it may happen and our path could rapidly and drastically change in this life.

I have done my best to stop watching the news because there are little bits and pieces that I know and so much more that I don't. Certain words or places or phrases trigger something in me that make me tense up and I suck the air back in again. 

I have stopped reading. The cuts, the force-outs, the everything. I know how dismal the promotion rate for the next year group is in comparison to the decade previously and I just can't seem to exhale. 

I worry every time that C calls from the field that something has gone wrong and it's all over. I hold my breath every time that phone rings for just a second. Two of our good friends have had their careers changed in two very different situations for two very different reasons but so much of me is scared that the next one will be C's. It isn't reasonable thinking. It isn't practical but I just can't let that fear go.

Today is a day that so much of me wanted to walk away. Today is very much a day that the great oaks of New Orleans were calling my name. The thought of the same house for twenty years or ten years or even just five years became a much stronger wish. To have our boys in the same school, with the same friends, the same teachers. Today was a day that I wanted so badly to walk away from the dozens of unknowns that are holding so many decisions captive. To brush them away. To give it up. 

To exhale. 

So much of me is still feeling it. So, so much of me is ready to give that signal to C that I'm ready. That I have had enough. That he has given enough.

 That he has given more than most and it is time for someone else to do it.

I know that if I asked him to he would walk away.

But never in my life do I think I could ever ask him. Even on a day like today I don't think I could ever say the words. 

Because this is our life. This life is our passion and our purpose and our way to serve others. I know that when it all comes down to it, the unknown that I fear most, that weighs greatest, is the fear that in the future this may not be our life. That we may not be part of it anymore. That C may have given fifteen years and told he isn't needed anymore. 

I know that is what is hardest on days like today. That there may be a day that he has to give this up. After fifteen years, after signing his name at the age of seventeen, it may not mean enough. 

What makes me want to walk away is how fiercely I love this life, how much I find purpose in volunteering and serving and helping. How much I love meeting a new spouse who wants to learn, who is committed, who will do so much good. The idea that that may be stripped away, that I may lose it all when every part of me wants to hold on, hurts and weighs more than I can say.

I love that during church today I heard the sirens going crazy as firetrucks and police cars escorted busses of soldiers through the main gate to the welcome home center. I love that that blaring sound meant a daddy was going to hold his daughter for the first time, or see his son walk, or kiss his wife or that a momma was going to hug her babies and hold her husband. I love getting to know C's soldiers. I love shaking their hands and their "Yes, Mrs Williams, " after I ask them again and again to call me "Megan." 

I love seeing the dress blues. I love teaching the next generation of military spouses. I love hearing the jokes of the green suiters while I try to teach them a ball etiquette class. 

I love learning the history. I love meeting every kind of American from every part of the country. 

I love being part of this community. I love giving my time and my joy and my hope. I love hearing Logan pointing out soldiers marching and flags flying and helicopters landing. 

Every part of me belongs here. I am so scared to lose it, so very scared of what may come and even more of what may go. 

There is so much we don't know. So much that weighs heavy on the heart. So much that keeps me holding my breath.


Come to Me, all you who are weary and weighed down with heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me; for I am gentle and humble in spirit. Indeed, you will surely find rest in Me! My yoke is easy, and My burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)