I was sure by now, God, that You would have reached down
and wiped our tears away,
stepped in and saved the day.
But once again, I say amen
and it’s still raining
as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain,
“I’m with you”
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away.
And I’ll praise you in this storm
and I will lift my hands
for You are who You are
no matter where I am
and every tear I’ve cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
I’ve shared many times before how strange my military life is. There are seemingly small inconsequential moments that somehow turn your world upside down and binds you together forever to a person with whom you share nothing, except a military bond. Melissa is exactly that to me.
She’s over 10 years younger than me, but I’m getting used to being the Den Mother. She’s seriously from the south with this amazing accent that convinces you to even eat “butt”. (You read that right.) She’s both absolutely naive and more than amazingly wise, because when it comes to the tough stuff, she gets it.
When our husbands went off to combat together for the second time (but it was the first time that she was in the picture), she lived life as normally as she knew how. She was amazingly strong in that situation. She was seriously PRESENT for me during that deployment. Held my hand while I was in labor, moved all of my belongings out of my house and then back into my house. We spent countless nights together, because often being alone is the absolute worst thing you can do during a combat deployment. And, in any other world, we’d never have even met, let alone become life long friends.
Today, Melissa faces some major trials in her life. Her Daddy (as she calls him in her thick southern accent) is not doing well, and she must be the strength for her Mama, as the only child. Melissa, I wish I could hold your hand today. I know Drew is home now and that Luke has made his entrance into the world and you have everything you need right there in your small hometown. But, I just want you to know that you mean the world to me and I couldn’t have gotten through many of my moments without you. Because the military chooses to separate us for a while, all I can do – and I promise I WILL do it – is pray. And remind you, with every ounce of my strength, to Praise Him in this Storm. And because you’re tired and it will be hard for you right now, I’ll act as Aaron did for Moses and hold your arms up. I love you, sister.