Jane Cook - Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan

News of my fiance’s impending deployment came two weeks before the war officially began and two months before our planned wedding day. All arrangements had been made. Every single detail had been finalized. And then it all fell apart. The war began, the word came, our lives changed.

Looking down the aisle at him, all I can remember thinking is, This is not the way it should be; this is not our plan, but it was God’s plan. I was starting down a path that I had no idea how it would end. All I knew at that moment was that marrying him was right. I had no guarantees, no absolutes. For the first time in my life, there was no safety net. My future was wide open with many possibilities. I was fully aware that I may not like some circumstances that I was facing.

The uncertainty of the upcoming weeks, months, and years was in God’s hands. We were only offered one choice: to trust God. Learning to allow God to have full control is not always easy and sometimes he takes matters into his own hands. For me learning to totally trust God came at a time when I had no other choice. Sometimes I think that is what it takes. He must remove the situation fully from my hands to show that I can trust him with the one that I love.

Lord, help me to trust you with the things and people I hold most tightly to.

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5)

We stood in the darkness, there were no words to say. We had said all we wanted to say and some we didn’t mainly goodbye. The “what ifs”, and the “just in cases” no, we chose not to speak on those. It was our last night together. The next morning he would be on a plane headed for Iraq, and I would be walking across a stage to receive my college diploma. Two weeks married, and we were facing a long separation. Our lives were going in two different directions, literally. I was to begin my career, and he was leaving to fight a war.

The coming months held much uncertainty. We didn’t know when we would see each other, touch each other, or even hear each other’s voices again. We refused to consider the alternative that we might not ever do any of those things again. But somewhere, in the back of our minds like the really terrible nightmare you hope you never have we both knew this could be our last moment together.

How do I hold onto that moment? How do I turn my back on my life partner and walk away not knowing when or if I will ever lay eyes on him again? Somehow I turned and walked away. On my way home I cried. I cried like I had never cried in my entire life, and I prayed like I had never prayed. The ache I felt was indecipherable. A huge gaping hole was now in my life. I tried to pull my thoughts together, forcing myself to keep going when every fiber in my being wanted to turn back and just hold him one more time. I would be strong. I would not fall apart. I would do it for him. I had no idea where his journey was leading, but that night I made the choice to be strong but I knew that strength would have to come from some source outside myself.

Lord, be my strength when I am weak. For your name’s sake, sustain me.

“He will keep you strong to the end…” (1 Corinthians 1:8)

Days away from our first wedding anniversary and more than ten months into Joe’s deployment, we were looking forward to him being home soon. When the phone rang, I thought he was calling to wish me a happy anniversary.

I was wrong. He was being extended. Again.

Originally he was not to have been gone longer than six months. Six months turned into a year and now it looked like it would be even more than a year and half. How long? No idea. Troops were short. Nerves that were already frayed and worn snapped. I don’t remember anything about the rest of that day or the coming days.

I had never felt so out of control in my life. At that moment all of the will and positive thoughts and faith seemed to come to a halt. I felt like I was at my rope’s end just dangling out over an abyss that I had no hope of crawling out of. My first year of marriage was an utter disappointment. I was so angry. I felt robbed and abandoned. It was the darkest time in my life. I had no way of knowing when I would ever again see the man I loved. Already he felt like a distant memory; holding onto him was harder and harder each day.

That day a very hard lesson was learned. It was not about my strength, I had obviously failed. The motivation that kept me going had to come from somewhere else anywhere else because I was not able to supply needed strength any longer. It was during that time that I learned what it truly meant to rely on God. In the darkest, hardest, and most unsure moments, God was there. In the frustrations he was there. In the uncertainty he was there. And I lived through it because he was there.

Father, help me draw strength from you even in my most helpless state.

“God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’ So we say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid…” (Hebrews 13:5b–6)

Many people ask me how it feels to be the wife of a former serviceman. I can sum it up in one word: personal. It’s very personal because it’s now our story, our sacrifice, our time lost. Joe’s deployment to Iraq directly affected who we were and who we are today. Surviving the experience for Joe (physically and emotionally), and for me (psychologically and emotionally), taught us that living out our vows was overwhelmingly important and real. In good times and bad I was his wife, and he was my husband. We held it together even though we were apart. While he longed to be home, I longed for him to return and bring with him my sense of home. He was where I belonged.

We stayed true to each other even in a long separation. Through every trial. Overcoming all obstacles. This is our story. Our legacy. Our history. It is who we are. We can now truly say that we appreciate each other every day. We know what it is like to face the world without each other, and it is not a way of life we ever want to face again.

I now understand the legacy that my grandparents and others of many generations gave us. The love of country, in good times and bad. The right to freedom of speech, even though we may not always agree with each other’s words. The right to worship our God, even though he may not be someone else’s god. My husband sacrificed so much so that our children will have a legacy to inherit. My family, friends, country and yes, God, are worth fighting and dying for. I want my children to grow up in a world where they have the rights and the freedoms to live their lives to the fullest extent of their efforts. Freedom is personal. Freedom comes at a high cost. While my husband didn’t pay the ultimate price, we honor those who do. It is our right and our obligation. Freedom is not free!

Lord, help me show my appreciation for the sacrifices men and women have made to help protect freedom around the world.

“For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.” (Genesis 2:24)

A knock on my door jolted me awake at 2 a.m.