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)