I also have a quick Andrew update: he passed the mid-PFA yesterday, but failed the first round of ORLP this morning. He's feeling confident about the retake, but keep him in your prayers. Odds are he'll pass the second round, but nothing is guaranteed. Of course, I'll keep you posted on all the goodness and anxiety that is OCS, but for now I have a a story for you...
You know how I said last week that I'd been having a rough week? Well that carried into the weekend. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time in Charleston, but I didn't expect to be hit with that much nostalgia. The second we pulled into town, all I could think about was the anniversary trip Andrew and I took there last year. Every major landmark that makes Charleston the charming little city that it is, took me back to that weekend and made me ache for my husband. It was rough. I was blessed to be able to talk to him a handful of times throughout the weekend, which was helpful, but I was still feeling a little sad. And for whatever reason, it all came to a head on Sunday afternoon.
I had dropped off my aunt and mom and was making the last leg back home by myself. I don't know what set me off, but I cried the whole way home. And then all the way through lunch. And then through my phone call with Andrew. And then while I unpacked. No exaggeration, folks. I was a disaster. This really isn't like me - I'm a "cry it out" kind of person, where once I've had my short little cry, I'm cried out. I don't start back up again and it's rare that it lasts that long. So I went to bed with the world's worst headache and most swollen eyes and woke up at 5am to catch a flight to Columbus, OH for work. Needless to say, I wasn't in the best emotional state for the exhaustion that comes with traveling.
Stick with me, I have a point.
Fast forward to 6:45pm, when I was boarding the plane to come home. I had turned off my phone, partially in preparation for the flight and partially because I was afraid that if Andrew called, I'd get upset after I hung up and embarrass myself. As fate would have it, I needed to look up something in my email, so I turned on my phone for a second, only to find a voicemail from the boy. A sweet one saying that he knew I was probably on a plane, but he thought I'd enjoy hearing his voice when I landed. Boy, was he right. Except the tears came. AGAIN. This time, I was sitting beside this big, burly, sunburned bald guy, who I knew would just think I was ridiculous if he saw me crying, so I turned my head to the window. Only he started to talk to me anyway.
It turns out, he was a construction worker, from my hometown of all places, on his way back from Columbus. And instead of a big scary bald man, he turned into this sincere and sweet teddy bear-like object, who listened to me ramble on about my husband. AND he used to be in the Navy. Divine intervention all over the place...
We had a great conversation about the Navy and faith and how the two work together and he said, "You know, I really believe that you only need two things to get you through this life: the love in your heart and the God of the Earth. And it sounds like you have both, so I think you'll be just fine." Thank you, Mr. JD Construction Worker. All of a sudden, I realized that as much as I love and miss Andrew, the love that I have for him and the God that I know makes all of this, not only doable, but totally worth it. And all of a sudden, it didn't feel so desperate anymore. It felt like more like a calling - which is usually uncomfortable, but almost always fulfilling.
So today, though I'm exhausted from a fun weekend and travel and crying, I feel a lot more at peace with Andrew's absence than I was over the last week. Who knew that Jesus would speak to me through this unsuspecting traveller, but I'm thankful for it nonetheless.
And by the way...6 down, 6 to go. We're halfway there.
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