The Present is for Exploding Sodas and Eating

That's what Sara put on the inside of my goodbye-card. It seems like it should be one of those oddly profound kind of statements. :) We had another Super Sunday today, and after lunch it was also prayer time for VBS (which starts tomorrow!) and a goodbye for me.

I cried, I admit. I have grown to love all these people so much. This ministry is all about relationships, which is why I believe it is so wonderful - but also why it is so hard. Everything in Army life is transient; you meet new people all the time and it seems as soon as you manage to build that close relationship, someone leaves - whether because of a deployment, PCSing, ERDing, or, like me, just going home. I really am excited to go home and to start school and start working. But I am going to miss this place so, so very much. All my friends here are so wonderful.

Lisa made me a BEAUTIFUL cake. Sherry gave me a journal, and people signed it and wrote in it. I got a picture from our trip to the Maginot Line that everyone signed. (the people who signed it are not the people in the picture! haha) Sara and Erika made me the sweetest cards :) and gave me mentos! (They know me well.) Kristen even got me my faaaavoritest potatoe chips from the commissary. Everyone prayed for me, wished me well, hugged me goodbye.

I wondered when I came over here if this was the right thing to do with my summer. Throughout the months I've wondered if I've done any good, if I've had any impact on those around me, if I've really done something to further the kingdom of Christ on earth. Today I realized the answer - yes. I have built relationships with people, and in some way touched their hearts, and they have touched mine. I have grown this summer, both personally and in my walk with and understanding of God, and what it is to follow Him. I have learned more than I am able to articulate - and some things I have learned I may not even know yet. But I have grown, and changed, and loved.

As Sara put in my card,
"Goodbyes are not forever,
Goodbyes are not the end.
They only say I miss you
until we meet again."







okay....so, I just now got what she meant by the statement..."the present" didn't mean the present, as in the right now, but as in the mentos....it makes a lot more sense now. I was thinking more symbolically, you know? Like, eat, drink, and be merry - only more fun and laughter with exploding sodas and eating....oh well. I feel awfully silly now.

Saying Goodbye

Sunday, 11:15 pm

The silence is loud. We just closed the door as Brad took the final van-full of soldiers back to post, to pick up their bags and head to the Hall of Champions, the last place they will be on post, where they get their smallpox shot, check their id's and dogtags, and get on the bus. Fifteen months before they'll be back. And we pray to God that they will all be back.

I can't help crying as I think of this. This was the last weekend. Now it's just Brad and Debbie and the guys on Rear D. Even I'm leaving - but I'm going home. Back to the States. I will miss this place, but I have no complaints. I get to go home, back to familiar sights and voices and foods and hugs. But these guys - and girls - my friends - are going downrange. Some of them are already gone. The house has been filled, every single bed and several couches, for the last four weekends, and now it's empty. And in that reality, the silence is loud. You can hear every clock tick, every footstep. Every deep breath, and whispered prayer. Oh God, why them? Is there a reason for this? Will they come back?

My heart breaks for the women who have to stand outside the gym, wishing they could follow their husbands inside as they check out. I cry for the children who are too little to understand where Daddy is going, and for the ones who have already been without their mother or father, who've had to stay in the States and adjust early to living on phone calls and letters. Now the soldiers are off to the heat of battle, where they will serve and fight and sacrifice for the rest of us.

They've laughed and joked about it, but when you stand in the doorway and say those goobyes, you catch a glimpse of what's behind their strength. You walk by an open door and hear it in the choked words on a last phone call home for who knows how long. You see it as they all sit and listen to the same songs over and over. If You're Reading This, by Tim McGraw. Letters from Home, John Michael Montogmery. They know where they're going and what it is they're going to be facing. Some of them have been there before, some as many as 4 times. They're gone. It's been talked about for months, but until now, when I've seen them walk out the door for the last time. When I know that I won't get another chance for goodbye. When I know some of them are gone already. When I know that in a few hours, they'll be on a bus with their bags, headed for a plane to take them to Iraq. To war.

Please, pray for our soldiers. For my friends. For these heroes.

One Week!

That's right - this time next week, I will be HOME! What an incredible thought - it's still hard to believe, because it seems that this world right here is the only one that exists, and that home is something I've dreamed of for so long that it couldn't possibly be real.

Brad and Debbie and I went to the pre-deployment ceremony this week. Not all of the soldiers were there, but there were quite a few. It was a good ceremony, but sad at the same time. Then Friday started what would probably be one of the last weekends. :( I got to babysit five adorable children Friday night, ages 6, 5, 3, and two just around a year old, one walking and one not. Fun stuff.

Saturday we took a trip to Trier and then to Rammstein Air Force Base. This was my third time in Trier, but it was a first for a bunch of the guys. We saw Constantine's Basilica, the Dom, and went up in the Porta Nigra, an old Roman gate. After spending most of the day there, we drove over to Rammstein to eat at Chili's (a real American restaurant in Germany!) and to go to the PowerZone, which is slightly larger at Rammstein than in Baumholder. Rammstein, being an Air Force Base, is in almost every way superior to the post in Baumholder. Mac, being prior service in the Air Force, left no opportunity un-seized to remind us of this fact. The sad thing is, it is quite true.

Sunday was church. I managed to fall down the stairs, and my left leg is now bruised from my knee down to my ankle. Ouch. The service was combined with the traditional and gospel services, and the Chaplain was . . . quite unlike anything I've ever heard. I was only able to understand about half of what was said, as it was delivered at such a volume that individual words were no longer discernible. After lunch it was back to the Festaburg for lunch, movies (or naps), and games.

Monday was a nice lazy morning, since about half the folks left to go work out. The rest of us just lazed about, enjoying the sunshine and the chance to do not much of anything. That afternoon we took a walk up to the castle with a large group. We brought a hymnal this time, so that we could enjoy singing a bunch of songs and actually know all the words. We sang for quite a long time, and it was really very cool. We hiked back and had dinner, and then played Catchphrase until it was time to take the soldier's back to post, which is always a sad time. Right now, you never know which hug you give out will be your last one before they're gone.