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

When I got home I emailed him with my revelation. You can imagine my excitement the next day when I got this email from him in response:

Wow! I prayed last Friday that if this was really what God wanted me to do that he would put it on your mind as well. That’s amazing. I haven’t wanted to share any of this until I was more sure about what God wanted me to do, so I have been praying about his purpose for me and that he would speak to your heart as well. I wanted him to speak to you so that I could get a confirmation that it is his will.

As for being a chaplain, I knew the army was short of them, but it didn’t hit me until I was in a unit that was deployed and hadn’t had a chaplain for a couple of months… that’s just not right. So, I decided that when our chaplain does arrive that I would ask him questions about being a chaplain without telling him or letting him know that I have been thinking about being one. The more he would tell me about what his job is and what kind of things he does, the stronger I felt about the call.

Isn’t that crazy? This was in the fall of 2003. When he came home in March of 2004, we started planning. He departed the army in the summer of 2005 and began his three-year seminary tour.

Lord, open my eyes to see the next steps you want me to take in my own life.

“For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD.” (Jeremiah 29:11a)

December 6, 2008.

Will leaves one week from today for his second deployment. I choose to look at this as just a speed bump in the road for us. Will may be able to email me every day and hopefully, won’t be gone more than sixteen months. The bottom line is that the deployment is Will’s job and God’s will. How can I argue with that?

Will has an amazing opportunity to minister to soldiers who desperately need him. Since he was called to the ministry in the fall of 2003, he has been waiting for this moment. As a wife, few things are better than to watch your husband fulfilling God’s purpose for his life. He can’t wait to get his boots in the sand and start his mission.

With that said, looking forward to deploying does not mean Will is looking forward to leaving us. He has said many times how much he is dreading our final goodbyes. As most of you know, he and Carlee Scott are the best of buds. It stings his heart when he realizes that she’ll be almost four and a half-years old when he returns home. To think that Owen will be over two years old and walking and talking just baffles him.

I could not be prouder of him as a father, as a soldier, and as a servant of God. But while I may be happy for him, no wife ever wants her husband to leave for over a year. Knowing that I will be raising two small children alone while carrying (and delivering) a third is overwhelming. Even today, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it. But I’m going to try. This is the road that has been chosen for me, and I will travel it proudly.

Although I will have many fearful moments, I can’t reside in fear. I won’t be ignorant and think something can’t happen, but instead I will recognize it, pray for safety and peace, and move on. I will not allow the enemy to hold me captive in fear.

Lord, help me travel well the road you have set before me.

“Be joyful always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16–18)

December 19, 2008.

On Wednesday afternoon, I dropped the kids off at Heather’s and went alone to the hospital for my ultrasound. While I was waiting for the OB doc to review the results of the ultrasound and come back in, I saw the still shot on the screen. It was the most perfect little baby, in early pregnancy bean-like form. I was in love and SO excited. When the doc came in, however, he was concerned.

“How much have you been bleeding?” he asked.

“Uh… none,” I replied.

“What I am seeing is a lot of bleeding around the baby. What I am not seeing is a heartbeat.”

After several moments of utter disbelief and questioning, he confirmed the truth: my baby had died. I proceeded to experience the greatest sadness of my entire life. I have never missed Will more than I did in that moment.

Finally, at 9 p.m., Will called from Kuwait. “So how’d it go?!?!” he asked, completely unaware.

I delivered the news. It was terrible. He was so devastated. He began grieving the loss of our baby as well as wrestling with the thoughts of me going through this grief alone and being without him at night.

I spent most of the night being either numb or sobbing. It’s a pain I’ve never experienced before. My emotions are frail, but I have been surrounded by the kind of support you could only dream of in a crisis. My constant tears have dried up, and I have clarity and peace. I long to see this sweet angel and I know one day I will. He/She is in heaven, whole, and complete with Jesus.

I never thought I would watch my husband deploy and then five days later be told that our unborn baby has died. If it happened to someone else, I would have thought that I could never handle such blows. Through it all the pain, the sadness, the anger, the frustration one thing is clear. God is Sovereign. He still reigns. He still loves. He still comforts. I will praise him in this storm.

Lord, in times of trial, may I cling to the truth that you still reign.

“The LORD upholds all those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.” (Psalm 145:14)

February 9, 2009.

I knew this day would be coming but I had no idea it would be this bad.

From the Associated Press:

A suicide car bomber struck a U.S. patrol in northern Iraq on Monday, killing four American soldiers and an Iraqi interpreter in the deadliest single attack against U.S. forces in nine months.

Yes, these were soldiers from Will’s battalion.

My stomach turned. I knew this meant that Will would be thrust into the most difficult challenge of his life so far. I knew the weight he would have to bear for the almost 1100 soldiers in his battalion would be heavy. I wanted to hug him. My stomach turned for the families. My stomach turned for the unit. Later in the day, Will emailed again and said that he watched the fourth soldier die in the hospital with his own eyes.

I spent Monday in a daze. I searched desperately online, trying to find more details and more information. Before bed, Will had written me to tell me about the ramp ceremony (where they load the remains on to the airplane for travel back to the U.S.). I knew he was involved in that, and I ached for him. He was exhausted and drained, which I could tell by his emails. There was more work to be done, so our e-visit was quick. I wanted to hug him again.

On Tuesday, he sent me the news that left me speechless… breathless. One of the four killed was his battalion commander the leader. OH MY…. NO! All four of the soldiers’ lives were precious and not one is valued more than the other. But the leader? I cannot believe it happened. I knew this guy and he was an amazing leader. This battalion has been rocked to the very core. How can I be consumed with trivial things like laundry or runny noses when such tragedy has just occurred? How is it possible that I am sitting in my beautiful, comfortable house when my husband is in the midst of crisis so far away? Oh, why can’t I be close enough to hug him?