Way Beyond the Bend... Lessons from Afghanistan

The first time our eldest daughter drove away from the house with both siblings in tow, is an image that WGH and I will not soon forget. A helpless feeling came over both of us as we stood there and watched until the green minivan with our three most precious blessings, rounded the bend and continued out of view. Feeling so helpless, all we could mutter was “Protect them God.” I’d like to say that this practice of supervising exits from the driveway, becomes less prominent in day to day life; it hasn’t . I honestly think our kids would be shocked to look back in the rearview mirror and not see us standing in the driveway or on the front steps. (Usually, waving a bit like maniacs and, on rare momentous occasions – with bittersweet tears.) What the children don’t realize is that I typically continue to stand in my watchful position as they drive beyond the bend. My responsibility as a mom is to listen for screeching tires and sounds of crunching metal, as they make left hand turns across a busy four-lane road, right? Fortunately, in the seven years of doing this – not once have I heard either horrifying sound. We all know that worry does nothing to circumvent disaster – so I choose to think of this as my motherly duty. If one of my children encountered trouble, I’d just sprint down the street and be there to help in any way possible – and most likely embarrassing them by being in pjs.



Two words that will drive parents to their knees, in a flash are “DRIVER’S LICENSE.” Those words helped me begin the realization, that in spite of all my efforts – I’ve never been fully able to protect my children, and the illusion of any control at all is quickly dissipating. The three times WGH and I have experienced the first solo departures from the driveway have been mere “Baby steps” on this road to the “we are completely without control” realization.


Like most Moms and Dads, we said goodbye to our children at numerous sleepovers, camps, dorms, and mission trip departures, etc. ; but the hardest farewell of all, and the greatest lesson about perceived control came in October 2009. We had spent several days in Topsail, NC – enjoying the last days before Tyler’s first deployment. We optimized every moment, and did all we could to make his last days on US soil, memorable and fun. We rented a great beach house and enjoyed fabulous family time, meaningful conversation, and lots of hugs, tears, and laughs – and eating at all the restaurants of his choice. We completely relished the time together, and we’ll never forget the emotional events of that week.


Nothing, nothing, nothing – could prepare my “mom’s heart” for the poignant goodbye that would take place on that pre-dawn, October morning. As the young men of Tyler’s unit gathered in the parking lot, with their gear tagged and staged, a sobering thought came to mind. From talking to others – I know that same sobering thought invaded their minds as well. Standing in the midst of roughly a 1000 young men, we knew that some of these brave 19-25 year olds would not return to their families. We knew that many would be injured. Every parent was having the same unspoken thoughts – as were many of the marines who were about to embark on a life-changing tour of duty in Afghanistan.  As we stood there hugging, I was praying like crazy - praying that this would not be the last time I was able to hug my sweet boy.  I didn't want to let go of him.  I made a concerted effort to look at him and to "ingrain" that snapshot of his handsome face in my mind forever.  Simply looking at this picture causes tears to well up because the profound emotions that overcame me that day are so easily recalled.

As all of our sons began boarding the buses that would take them to a nearby air base – the tears flowed more heavily, and the sobs grew louder – I don’t think I looked at another face that wasn’t wet with tears. A final round of hugs preceded my son stepping on the bus. Our family, along with others – stood there and watched and prayed as the buses drove out of sight – “just around the bend.”


Like watching my precious son drive out of our neighborhood for the first time, watching him ride away on a bus – heading to war, drove me to the realization that as parents, we only think we have control over our children. There was not a single thing that I could do to help him after he turned out of our neighborhood, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do to protect him as his boots touched Afghanistan soil – but PRAY. I had no more ability to protect him thousands of miles away, than I did to protect him between home and school just a year earlier. As a mom, I want to hold my babies with a tightly clenched fist, but God has shown me that I must hold them with an open hand…and ultimately, they are resting in His.


Tyler was never far from thought. During the months he was deployed, we and so many others, prayed for him continually. Our family experienced prayer support like never before from our church, extended family and from other military families who know and understand deployments. Tyler said on more than one occasion, that he sensed the prayers of others back home. He had close calls, some near misses; while I don’t like to think of those times, they are a harsh reality of war. The hardest thing for me now, is knowing the pain some of my friends are experiencing still today. They did not see their sons step back off the bus at the end of May, instead – their sons gave the ultimate sacrifice.


While none of us understand the mind of God, we have no choice but to trust in Him and in His plan for all of us. I know firsthand that two of the young men who gave their lives, had had an incredible, immeasurable impact on not just their families, but on the eternal lives of other service men, countless friends, and acquaintances. It’s impossible for me to know the pain these parents feel, but I strongly suspect they view the years that their sons were on this Earth as an incredible gift. If they aren’t at that point yet, I pray they’ll get there. These families will remain in my thoughts and prayers, now and forever.


In my humble opinion, “Letting go of our children” goes against our natural instinct. From the beginning, these precious little ones rely on us for protection, nurture and love. It’s why that when we hear words like “driver’s license” or “deployment” – we realize that we’ve been deceived into thinking we have some sort of control. We come face to face with our inability to protect them and our need to depend on God. If we don’t chose to trust in Him, we will likely drive ourselves and everyone around us crazy! In the meantime, fretting will not help our children to navigate what’s “beyond the bend” – be that Johnson Ferry Road or Southern Afghanistan.


As our family prepares for future deployments, we will choose to trust and to rest in the One who knows all things, and sees all things. We cannot take matters into our own hands – even if we tried.  We never know in advance the difficulty that exists just beyond the bend.  However, through reflection on prior difficult seasons, we can see that God is faithful. We must remember those times of trial and more importantly remember the way He met us in our most critical needs.  When trials come - we must trust.





Not a burden we bear,

not a sorrow we share,
but our toil he doth richly repay;
not a grief or a loss,
not a frown or a cross,
but is blest if we trust and obey.
trust and obey, for there's no other way
to be happy in Jesus...but to trust and obey.

 

Homecoming - May 2010

All of my favorite people in this one photo!