After about a six or seven-year absence from my life, one day in 2007, I received a message from Peter. He was my “one that got away” and one I never believed possible could return to me. Through countless e-mails, chats, texts, and phone calls, I realized I could not let this man get away again, even if he wasn’t “on the same page” due to his situation at the time. Though in some ways, less risky than saying it out loud and in person, I sent Peter a text message along the lines of, “You don’t have to be ready to respond, but you need to know that I am completely, irreversibly in love with you, then and now and always.” I sent this as I was leaving a missions meeting and he received it in the Burger King drive-thru. The rest, as they say, is history.
After getting married, I left all the familiar things of home – family, a job, a congregation I loved, and dear friends – to become an army wife. The move from Texas to Colorado had many adventures, including movers that “broke down” on the “Texas Colorado border, near Amarillo” (their words). In spite of that challenge, I faced the unknown of moving to a new place and setting up a home for my husband.
A few months later, we added to the adventure. Though news of my first pregnancy quickly fell in the shadow of our first deployment, we faced the fear head-on, perhaps out of requirement and necessity. Being a first-time dad, Peter’s leadership allowed him to schedule mid-tour leave (of a 15-month deployment) to see the arrival of his son. Facing most of the pregnancy alone, when it’s the first pregnancy and when you live in a new place is filled with unknowns. I will confess that I “ran away” to my own mommy and daddy for the last couple of months of pregnancy and then the first three of Dietrich’s life.
Dietrich showed no interest in entering the world. A week after his due date, after a day of induced labor, the doctor forced eviction by C-section. That was the first surgery I’d had in years, and certainly more involved with longer recovery than either a tonsillectomy or sinus surgery. I struggled afterward with why my body didn’t go into labor, why I couldn’t deliver him on my own before I embraced the truth: None of that mattered, because he was in my arms, healthy. At the root of so many fears is a lie. Find the lie and shout the truth at it as many times as necessary to believe the truth.
As Dietrich and I faced the world together, venturing out and exploring beautiful Colorado Springs. My first time or two driving in “real” snow (not ice like Texas) or frozen fog was scary, especially when others around me continued at posted speeds on the highway.
Getting to know each other again and becoming a family of three took some getting used to, but we managed. However, a short year later, Peter deployed again (this time for 12 months).
After Peter’s return the second time, he needed a change. He contacted the branch manager and learned of a new position in Germany. This move was the furthest out of my comfort zone I’d been called. Everything about leaving the familiar language and culture, watching as our household goods were packed to be sent overseas, and saying goodbye to loved ones (some for the last time) held a new level of unknowns.
When we left for Germany, I was pregnant for the second time, a pregnancy that would end too soon, and my worst fear in the world, one I didn’t know I had, became a reality.
When we went to Germany, we knew the new unit would be part of a quicker rotation cycle in Turkey. About a month before Peter left, we learned we were expecting Madilynn. While that pregnancy had some trials, not the least of which was being pregnant in a foreign country while parenting a preschooler, God provided all the right people at just the right time to get us through.
As we left Germany and Peter ended his time with the military, we did not have a job prospect. We didn’t know where we would end up, what we would be doing. We watched as our goods were packed to go to a storage facility for an unknown amount of time. Through this time, I used the teachable moments to share my faith, especially with my children. Imagine my surprise the day Dietrich repeated my own words back to my dad: God’s going to point us in the right direction!