Philippians 4:19

I think it's safe to speak for many when I say that sometimes military families just want to feel "normal". We want to get involved in the community, pretend we'll be here forever (that is, if we like it), and blend in. But due to the obvious, that's hard. Hard, because it's also very important to some to feel supported and understood in how our daily life operates. Not every non-military person understands or agrees with my reasons for not working right now; few fellow military spouses will question it. On top of that, so many non-military people try to "understand", but rather than simply listening, their way of "understanding" is attempting to identify in ways they just can't. Unless it is carefully said and appropriately applied, "oh, everyone goes through something like that" does not often make me feel less different from a non-mil person; it only minimizes my feelings, as well-intentioned as it may be. To be clear, this does not only pertain to the challenges but also the privileges of our unique lives. Such a communicative divide creates an admittedly self-inflicted, but seemingly unavoidable in-group, out-group situation, an "us and them" sort of relationship with everyone. Sometimes you prefer "us" for identification and support, and sometimes you want "them" to help you feel like you're still appreciated by--and part of--the rest of the world.

And yet...

Last Friday I helped decorate the church for Christmas. Have I expressed how WONDERFUL the people are there?! My first week in town a nice family at church invited me to Thanksgiving because they heard I'd be alone. And while decking the halls, another amazing woman I'm getting to know (we'll call her Jenny) showed me that while there are sometimes clearly-drawn lines between mil and non-mil, the right kind of friendships can transcend those lines and make one feel totally appreciated, understood, and valued-- independent of the labels.
Jenny had military friends who do the exact same job Eric does, but she still wanted to hear about our experience. She did not once claim to "get it" or say that she "totally understands", even though she has heard the same story several times before. She showed such genuine interest in our lifestyle, our first year of marriage, and how I personally am doing in this whole new world. This meant more to me than I could've known before our conversation started. I didn't even know I was needing that kind of personal attention! Most meaningful to me was that, while she acknowledged that Eric and I are a team, she made it clear that she specifically wanted to know how I was handling all the craziness of the past year. So often people focus on how cool the job is, all the incredible stuff and hard work that goes on in Eric's day-to-day, and simply forget that we are individuals as well. That the "support staff" has a life and interests and feelings that don't pertain to the Air Force bubble. That after all, while it may be more consuming than some, this is one person's career; there is another person involved and there are still many other facets to our life, just like that of anyone else. (Thankfully, my husband is most definitely not one of those people.) Don't get me wrong; I have, for the most part, enjoyed being Eric's answering service and main source of Eric-related updates (hey, I'm very proud of him, too!), but it was incredibly refreshing to have someone ask about me. Maybe this all sounds quite selfish, but even Eric notices people's lack of awareness where I'm concerned. He's often hyper-aware of keeping conversation on "us" and not just "him" when catching up with old friends and extended family. He did not even like that his graduation picture is on our Christmas card this year! I told him he was being ridiculous. :) (Did I mention how blessed I am to have such a considerate, tuned-in teammate?!)

By the end of our conversation, it was clear to Jenny and I that our impromptu girl-talk was definitely "a God thing". And oh, how awesome it was to randomly connect with another Christian woman like that!! She and her husband invited Eric and I on a double-date to their favorite spots in Philly, and she offered to use her contacts to help me come up with creative ways to work and find fulfillment outside of the conventional 9-5. Jenny was God's way of showing me that He is paying attention, He knows what I need, and He will provide. Friends, jobs, contentment, value-- He's got it all covered. I left feeling a little ashamed of my lacking faith and grateful for yet more grace and for a wonderful new friend. Through Jenny, God showed me that while we all have differences, the labels are optional and the lines are drawn in pencil. And He is capable of removing both.

All I Want For Christmas...

The tree is up, the house is decorated (and nearing completely unpacked status!), and the Christmas season is in full swing. There's a lot to look forward to this year, too. Tomorrow is the squadron Christmas party--our first ever "real Air Force" function! (After a year in the transient training world, it's exciting to be included in the "Permanent Party Club".)  

We're also really looking forward to going home for Christmas, even if only for two days. (Yea, two. Not including the 24 hours of driving involved. We might be insane.) We love our new home, our new town, etc., but not having established relationships here yet makes the the idea of spending the holidays with family even more exciting.

I think everyone struggles with something, especially after a big move. For some, it's getting organized or lacking routine; for others, it's finding purpose in a new place. For me, it's establishing relationships. Okay, maybe I struggle with all of those things, but relationships are the hardest. Much unlike my social butterfly pilot (who also has a built-in social network of sorts), I'm terrible at it. I always have been. (If you haven't caught the hint, this is about to get very vulnerable; there, you've been warned.) Despite what many people perceive, I am extremely self-conscious and socially insecure. Especially when it comes to making girl friends. I want to have friends who understand me, who enjoy spending time with me, who come to me when they need someone to talk to. And I hate being new, so I want these BFFs right away. But in all of my "please get me!" nervousness, I go about earning this comradery by talking too much, sharing too soon, and totally freaking people out (or so it seems). Once I'm good and misunderstood, I proceed to guess the impression I made and analyze every social interaction ad nauseum until I am even more unsure of my likeability and no closer to having friends. Ugh; it's exhausting. All this lonely new kid business makes me so thankful for my family, my deep friendship with my husband and for the few close friends God has blessed me with. Not only do I value those relationships so much, but they also help me to know that, despite what I assume others' initial opinions of me may suggest, I actually do have a lot to offer a friend. (See, I told you I over-analyze.)
Dear Santa, I will practice not being a socially awkward weirdo if you will please bring me some friends for Christmas. Preferably ones who don't put all their eggs in the first impression basket; I sometimes need lots of do-overs.