Mention deployment to a friend or family member and questions like “How many times has he been deployed?” are asked. This late in the war, it’s not uncommon to hear “three times” or “almost five years in the last ten.” It’s a shock sometimes, to me even, when I hear myself say it out loud.
I noticed this time I have a hard time minding the details of where David is and what he’s doing. I see it like this: he’s one of two places here or not here. One thing is for sure: right up there with compassion fatigue is my own passion fatigue.
I wish for those early days of the war, when we were sure it was just and winnable. Lines have crossed and blurred now. Subsequent deployments haven’t gotten easier with our multiplying stressors or the soldiers’ changing enemy. In my darkest, lonely hours I cry, “If this isn’t persecution, I don’t know what is.” It’s not that I don’t believe in what we’re doing. I’ve long felt this is our family’s duty, honor, and ministry. I just wish there were more soldiers in the fight.
I sigh when I realize the similarities between the need for soldiers fighting to liberate the oppressed overseas and the need for Christian soldiers to disseminate the freeing Truth. There will never be enough of either and the work will not get easier. The fact of the matter is that the more persistent we are, the worse it will get, on earth. So I pull up those boot straps and focus on the Lord and what it all means. I focus on his promises of the rewards in Heaven and the knowledge that opposition (read: persecution) means we are striking a nerve with the enemy, and it isn’t all for naught.
Lord, Thank You for our opportunity to serve You and our nation. Thank You for promising heaven and giving meaning to our suffering.
“And God will use this persecution to show his justice and to make you worthy of his Kingdom, for which you are suffering.” (2 Thessalonians 1:5 NLT)