Otherness and Loneliness

People ask me often, “Did you want to marry someone in the military?” The truth is that I had no idea what I was doing when I met Daniel. He was a senior at The United States Air Force Academy and I had literally no idea what was in store and then I became world’s most ignorant military spouse. I knew literally nothing about this new life. I have all the stories about my becoming a spouse into military culture. I remember shopping at the Base Exchange in Mountain Home, Idaho and proceeding to park in the space with the name plate “GENERAL” on it. You guys. I can’t even count the eyerolls my husband had when I told him this. I also remember the first time I heard the reveille playing and all the cars stopped driving and I was just trucking along thinking “what is that music for?” You military spouses reading this, I imagine, are nodding your heads and chuckling to yourself with your own stories of military ignorance in a world completely other.

Did I understand the different weeks, and months of trainings that would take my husband from home? Did I know the helplessness of waiting for orders telling me where my family would move next? Was I prepared for the pain of celebrating kids’ birthdays while their dad was away, waiting for Facetime connections to load, saying more goodbyes than hellos? The answer to all of these is absolutely not. This military life is full of scenarios and experiences that are left for only for us. In that, there can be much loneliness.

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I've heard countless women long for others who have "been there." Women and moms in their same stage of life. Fellow laborers who can say “I’ve been where you are, and I can help you.” I want people like that too, and the people that we find like us can be huge sources of encouragement and growth. But here’s the rub. I am now a 26 year old military wife, with 6 children, ages 13,12,7,*almost*6, 4, and 18 months. Would the woman who is in this stage of life with me, please stand up....

I’m sure there may be a mom somewhere who can identify with my life. But will she live in walking distance? Will she have the time for me? What if we don't hit it off? What am I supposed to do with all the other people not in my same stage of life, which is you know...basically everyone.

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My family of God-ordained misfits now lives in Germany and there are two kinds of people I meet. First there are the Germans. If you thought I answered the question "These kids are all yours?!" a lot in America...Germany takes it up a notch. Most of the German nationals we meet don't even have a category for 6 children belonging to one family, period. Let alone a family built through adoption with young parents, and all ages of children. They are so kind, and most of their questions come with true, honest to goodness, disbelief and curiosity. But they are still a reminder that here--I don't quite fit.

Then, there are those who have *been here* they know this feeling of not belonging. They are strangers here in this beautiful countryside throwing together unfamiliar phrases like "Sprecken sie English?" (Do you speak English) while trying to figure out if this store takes Visa and how to use the produce scales and barcode printers that are written completely in German. But, the truth is, even they don't fully understand. They didn't have my connections. They haven't said my goodbyes. They haven't experienced my homes. They haven't uprooted their newly adopted children. So, we can laugh about the commonalities and mourn what we've lost. But the truth remains...no person on this earth can fill my need to belong. My need to connect. My need to be fully known and loved. And yet, God created me with this need for horizontal relationships. He created Adam and knew that he was missing something without his helper. This is where we live. In this confusing and hard pull between loneliness and simultaneous belonging where I long for earthly friends, and still rest in my belonging in Christ.

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After I miscarried, my dear friend and her six year old daughter came to our house as they delivered restaurant gift cards to minister to us in our grief. They came by briefly and her daughter looked into my eyes as she handed me the card she made and said “Miss Jess, I am so so sorry that your baby died.”

She hasn’t had a miscarriage. Her mother hasn’t had a miscarriage. She’s not a mom yet. Her understanding of death and grief is small. But her little voice ministered to me in my grief more than all the words of solidarity, comfort, and encouragement that were offered. Yes, I loved all of those too and they were all invaluable. But these words from someone other were used mightily to glorify God—even if unexpectedly.

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Oftentimes, it isn’t those who are the same as us who help us walk best, but those who are different. Paul was a single man, converted by Jesus himself through a supernatural encounter,[1]and he spoke about matters pertaining to life and godliness through the Holy Spirit in the scriptures. Matters like, sex, parenting, and marriage not excluded. [2] I wonder how small Christianity would have stayed had he only tried to find other people just like him and preached only about things he had first hand experience with.

How much more is true of Jesus? All the good works in the world can’t make me look like a person who’s defining qualities are his godhood, holiness, sinlessness, and perfect love. Only grace could turn my selfishness into generosity. My pride for humility. My shame for acceptance. My wandering, for found. “But while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”[3] While our backs were turned to him in stubborn defiance. While we turned our noses up at the good laws he gave us. While we shook our fingers at the cross that held our savior…He died for us, a people totally other than him.

This is how he made his church. He fills it with people who all look and talk differently. Men, women, and children from every corner of the earth.[4] All of us with different family structures, traditions, sin struggles, and all the in between. All of these things together make one family—one church full of horizontal relationships for me to grow in. In this place I can learn from the 6 year old about how to grieve well. In this, I can learn about faithfulness from the older woman at church with an unbelieving husband. In this I can walk hand in hand with the teen as she struggles to feel worthy. All this for his glory, and for our good.

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We don’t really need solutions to problems. There is no formula for surviving threes or teens. There's no recipe for making it through deployments and our constant three year move cycle. I can’t solve whatever is going on in my friend’s marriage. But, I can hold her hand as I encourage her in her own faithfulness. I can lift my hands to the healer when illness leaves me speechless. When I’m not sure which way my friend should walk, I can read the word with her, and tell her that when the road gets dark— I’ll still walk.

The friend who can fill the deepest longing of my heart to be known does not exist. But the friend who can lead me to the One who can—she does. And she often looks different than I imagine. She doesn't have the same thrill for a cute jacket, and she's not a stay at home mom. Maybe she's much older than I am, or maybe she's a single college girl who ministers at my church. She likes to hike and I like to lounge, and yet...she still walks with me. So yes, moms of toddlers, find other moms of toddlers if they’re there! Laugh about the popcorn up the nose and share those labor and adoption stories. Moms with grown children, find other older moms who know the joys of grand parenting and the sorrow of empty nesting.

But, if it doesn’t look like that woman like you is there—widen your gaze. Military wives, find the wife with a husband who works from home, or whose husband has been out of work for months. Listen to her, pray with her and remember God uses all kinds of things and all kinds of people to draw you closer to him, and most of them don't look the same to you as they do to him. He is wise, we are human. Our stories may be different but our God is the same and he knows what you need. He knows the help you need. He knows the truth you need. He knows the people you need. Maybe the woman like you isn't there, but that doesn't mean the one for you isn't.

[1]Acts 9

[2]1 Cor. 7, Eph. 5

[3]Rom. 5: 8

[4]Rev. 7:9

[5]Psalm 90:12

[6]1 Peter 1:24