I greet you all in the name of Jesus Christ!  The Messiah, Our crucified Savior, Our Risen Lord and our soon coming King!  I pray that the Lord has shown HIMSELF nothing but, faithful to you.  We are once again entering into our favorite season within the military . . . it is time to MOVE!  Many of you are experiencing the end of a deployment and the start of a PCS.  Some of you are going to exotic places like, Ft. Leavenworth, Wright/Pat A.F.B., and Rhode Island and let’s not leave out Detroit!  You guys are on the move!  During this busy season of packing and unpacking let us not lose our focus . . . JESUS.  Jesus has great plans for you and HE has already begun to put them into action.  We the NE REGION Board are working hard on your behalf to prepare a place for you once you arrive in our region.  But, know that God is preparing for you as well.  We must remember above all else we are Christians first.  As I was pondering all that is going on in my small world I began to realize that time is drawing close and we must be prepared to meet with our King.  Ladies, The King is coming and HE is coming just for you.  How delightful is that.  Below is a devotion that I wrote and shared with the ladies in attendance at Vision Week.

SOMEDAY MY PRINCE WILL COME.

SOMEDAY MY PRINCE WILL COME?

SOMEDAY MY PRINCE WILL COME!

“Then I saw Heaven open wide-and oh! A white horse and its Rider . . .  His eyes are a blaze of fire, on his head many crowns.  He has a Name inscribed that’s known only to him.  He is dressed in a robe soaked with blood, and he is addressed as “Word of God.” . . . A sharp sword comes out of his mouth . . .  On his robe and thigh is written, KING OF KNGS, LORD OF LORDS.”  Revelation 19:11-16 (The Message)

Every time I read these verses my heart pumps a little faster, my blood starts surging and I get just downright giddy!  My Jesus is coming! And HE is coming just for me! I also find myself daily living as if HE is not coming.  I am guilty of sleepwalking through my days.  My focus being that everyone in my home wears clean clothes, eat at least twice a day and my kids receive some type of education daily.  I seldom pause to remember that MY PRINCE IS COMING! In my mind I know that I have a Savior but, how often do I allow my actions to bear the fruit of that knowledge?  I began to ponder how different my days would be if I were to dwell on the Truth of God’s Word.  How different I would become when the power of God’s Word began to penetrate my daily living.  Ultimately how different those around me would be impacted when my faith met up with Holy Ghost power and began to manifest in my life.  I believe my “problems” would not intimidate me but, inspire me to ask God, believe God then wait on God to deliver.  And when deliverance comes I would accept God’s plan instead of my own.  When asked to do what I believe is impossible I would believe what God says about impossible – He says, “All things are possible to those who believe!” When faced with sadness or sorrow I would choose the gift that only God can give, “we grieve but, not like those who have no hope!” When bombarded with uncertainty I would choose God again and the peace only HE can give, the kind that passes all understanding.  My life would change if I began to live like MY PRINCE WAS COMING.  The cares of this life would not gain a stronghold within my heart because it would be so in love with my PRINCE.

SOMEDAY MY PRINCE WILL COME. – I believe Jesus is coming but, it won’t be anytime soon and I probably will not live to see it . . . people have been saying that for years!

SOMEDAY MY PRINCE WILL COME? – What Prince? What we talking about? I have no idea what this talk is all about.

SOMEDAY MY PRINCE WILL COME! – Yeah Baby! Bring it! COME LORD JESUS COME!

When I embrace each new day with this attitude I will live differently.  Everyone I meet will become important to me.  I will wonder if the lady ahead of me in the Commissary knows my Jesus.  I will pray fervently for opportunities to share the Gospel of Christ.  It will become important to me to minister to as many people the Lord places in my path.  My life will take on the purpose of Christ and not just my own.  I will live a life that draws me closer to the Kingdom of God.  Those around me will be impacted and I will be changed . . . forever.  Eternity begins today and never ends. Remember to take some time and pause, reflect, and remember that you are saved not just for yourself but, for the Kingdom of God!

God Comes Through

The day of departure had arrived. We left the hotel and drove to the Chaplain’s house where our Accord spent the night. God, knowing exactly what we would need long before our move, served up the perfect provision.

And so it goes . . .

A little background: Chaplains are endorsed by various churches or parachurch organizations that provide support and accountability in their roles as Chaplains within the military. Steve and a fellow Chaplain at Fort Campbell happened to share the same endorser. This endorser, located in South Carolina, was holding its annual conference in Colorado Springs at the Air Force Academy. Our Chaplain friend was planning to attend that conference.

Where were Steve and I headed for our compassionate PCS? Colorado Springs. And our house, which had been rented, was a mere 15-minute drive from the Academy. As it turns out, our Chaplain buddy was glad to drive our Honda Accord to Colorado Springs since he was going there anyway. We paid for his expenses and he flew back after the conference as he had originally planned. This couldn’t have worked out more perfectly for us. And, as an additional point of interest, since that conference in the summer of 2002, the endorser hasn’t held any out west.

I find all this very interesting. None of it was coincidental. It reminds me that I never have a valid reason to fret or worry. God has everything worked out in advance. He knows what I really need when I really need it and delivers it right on time.

Back to the story. My memories tend to be sketchy, but for some reason certain moments in time remain etched in my brain. I clearly remember sitting in the passenger seat of our Honda Pilot (we had traded in the Plymouth Voyager minivan for the Pilot), the door was open, and our Chaplain friend’s wife came over to the car and spoke words of encouragement to me. I was so weak, tired, and miserable that I barely responded. I nodded once, turned my head to face forward, and she closed the door. I hoped she didn’t see me as rude or indifferent but rather desperately ill.

I don’t remember the drive home other than it being long. It was the longest ride of my life. When we pulled into my parents’ driveway they were glad to see me but I just wanted to hit the sack.

The subsequent months would prove agonizing but informative. I finally would get the accurate and complete diagnosis I’d longed for.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

In a quest to develop my faith I make an effort to notice the things God does for me that I can’t do for myself. I also pay attention to His creation more. Many of us allow ourselves to get so busy that we lose sight of the beauty around us and, in effect, we lose sight of God.

This summer I’m going to pay closer attention to the birds swirling around my deck. I’m going to listen to their songs and watch the clouds float by. I’m going to breathe the fresh air and let God speak to me through His creation. I’m going to embrace a new appreciation for the obvious, yet often dismissed, blessings in my world.

This summer take time to sit. Look. Listen. Enjoy the blessings that surround you and thank God.

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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

Alterations

On Easter Sunday in 2002 I sat at the dining room table in front of my makeup mirror. This was the first time in months that I bothered to apply makeup and the lighting revealed changes in my skin. The texture was no longer smooth and the pores were huge. It looked acne prone but no acne was present. And if that wasn’t enough, I had a beard — a thin layer of light hair or “peach fuzz” outlining my face.

That’s a steroid for ya. It turns men into women and women into men.

I was the unfortunate recipient of prednisone side effects. I’d been using the drug for six months and that was enough to cause damage. As was the case when I discovered bald spots on the back of my head on Steve’s birthday, I tried to make myself look pretty. I felt altered. It took herculean effort to muster a good attitude. I forced a smile at chapel but inside I grieved. Of course, no one else knew the difference, but no one else had my face. I hoped these changes would be reversed if I quit taking prednisone. (I will go ahead and tell you now they never were. Physical changes from prednisone usually are permanent.)

In the meantime I continued my supplement regimen hoping that it would be strong enough to hold off the disease process. But soon my hopes would be dashed. One day in the bathroom I looked down at my legs. They were covered with red-purple blotches. It looked like my blood was trying to escape. Along with this horrifying discovery came irritated elbows and knuckles. Red streaks lined my fingers. An excruciating blend of weakness, pain, and burning attacked my upper arms.

These alarming new developments prompted me to contact Tricare to see if I could get a different rheumatologist closer to Clarksville. They accommodated my request and I managed to get an appointment scheduled for June.

By the time June rolled around my condition deteriorated. Every activity was a chore. I was so listless that even holding my Bible was hard. I didn’t want to listen to the radio. Didn’t want to read. Didn’t want to watch TV. I lay there staring at the ceiling praying to God in my mind, “Lord, I’m too weary to move my lips. Read my heart.”

It wasn’t long before someone recognized the severity of my health. Steve got word that we were being sent back to Fort Carson. It was sort of a compassionate reassignment without the official title. It really was more of a compassionate early PCS. Under normal conditions we would have remained at Fort Campbell for another 6-12 months. God orchestrated this move and had the Army send us back to where I had family and access to better specialists.

Because we only had a month before moving I canceled my appointment with the rheumatologist. What was the point of getting started with a new doctor when I was leaving? I was ready to move on, ready to get back home.

God came through with provisions for our move. It was obvious he had everything worked out ahead of time. Again I would see Him acting on my behalf. Yet, I sense a question circulating, “Why did He allow this to happen to you in the first place?” That question would be answered in months to come.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

“Why?” It’s a question we find ourselves asking at times, especially when something horrible happens that seems to have no valid purpose or reason. I like to have answers. I like information. I try to figure things out. I need to know that somehow God will replace my ashes with beauty, my grief with joy (Isaiah 61:3).

What I’ve come to accept is that God will always be incomprehensible. God has a plan that involves the universe and I’m a microscopic part of that. God’s plan is something so massive and astounding that I wouldn’t understand it even if He tried to explain it to me. When I get outside myself and acknowledge the fact that life involves things much bigger than me, and recognize that God is God and that He has eternity in mind, my perspective becomes a little clearer.

All I can do is throw myself at His feet in surrender and trust that He will make all the suffering worthwhile. . . . He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end . . . (Eccles. 3:1-9).

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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

We are a mobile community. On average, we move every 2-3 years and these aren’t our parents’ moves. We tend to move long distance, every time. Throw in the occasional overseas move and you’re in a whole new ballgame.

Those of us that have been around for a few moves have nailed the process. Clean out the closets, yard sales or thrift store drop-off’s, undies in a Ziploc, make sure the cat is contained when the packers come, and feed the movers.

Not everyone in PWOC has been through this process so many times, however, and we need to remember to share our experiences with our new-to-the-military sisters.

My first military move came 16 months into our marriage, 7 months in to our first pregnancy, and less than 1 month after my new husband’s return from six months in Afghanistan (early 2002). On top of that, I was leaving home for the first time (with my parent’s second grandchild yet unborn), and not just leaving, we were going literally halfway across the United States which, as far as my parents and I were concerned, was half way around the world. It was not the smoothest move.

I didn’t have PWOC back then and I wonder how different those early years would have been had I known about it. That’s why I’m always quick to tell new military gals all about PWOC. I even keep a stash of the Invitation Cards in my purse so that I have something tangible to hand them when we part.

Once our new-to-the-military sisters get involved, we become an invaluable network of resources, experience and friendship. With our Installation Locator, it takes no effort at all to reach out and make a connection with new friends at the next installation. It’s these connections that provide the most valuable information regarding living areas, schools, daycares, shopping and perhaps most important of all, these new connections combat that feeling of loneliness we all tend to feel upon arriving at a new location.

PCS season will be upon us in the blink of an eye. Remember to take advantage of the resources here at PWOC.org but also remember to be a resource to others less experienced.

We are Christ’s church. We are the Fellowship of Believers. We care for our own.

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“Tech Tuesday” is published every Tuesday. To reach Tracy with comments or questions, email her here.

I haven’t been writing much lately due to preparing for a PCS. Many of you have been through this before, and many of you have not. I have one ETS under my belt as well as many civilian moves, but no PCS to date. The interesting thing about this is that I am not worrying about anything. I owe it to Jesus, because there is no explanation for why I only ask for information instead of nagging until I’m blue in the face. I know that it will be difficult, but that is because I’m leaving my home. This home is my Christian birthplace. It is where my husband and I built our first home together. I started PWOC here for the first time. I started attending church for me, not because my parents were taking me or making me attend. I made dear friends. My husband deployed twice from here. I was baptized here. I found a place to call my church home and became a member for the first time by personal choice (husband led, of course!). I am such a different person. I wouldn’t even recognize me if I saw myself on the street!

All of these changes, and how has it happened? The answer is as simple as the air for each breath I take. Jesus. It was all because of Jesus. He guided me to my husband, held my hand through the rough patches, and molded me into the person I am now. I also know that this move is so that he can continue to shape me until he calls me home. Jesus is the reason that I have peace about this PCS, but it is more than that. Here, I have taken many bible studies. I have learned much, and the basics are the most important. Equally as important, however, are the names that I have learned. God’s names. I have much to learn, but the more that I learn, the more I know I need to learn. I now know that my prayers have more impact when praying for my sick Grandmother if I call upon Jehovah Rapha, The Lord our Healer. During a PCS, it’s nice to know that I can receive what I need from the Lord of Peace, YWHW-Shalom. Even if I don’t know all of the Hebrew names, I can call on him as I am in need (The Lord our Provider!). The Names of God are something that I plan on focusing more with my studies in the near future. For now, though, my focus is on boxes.

I will declare your name to my brothers; in the congregation I will praise you. – Psalm 22:22

Doctor! Doctor!

In July 2000 we packed our household goods, cleaned our apartment, moved into the Ray Barracks guest house, and eagerly anticipated our PCS to Fort Campbell, Kentucky. My “lupus” symptoms hadn’t changed. As far as I could tell, the condition remained isolated to my gum tissue, and I kept hoping it would go away.

By the end of August we were settled into our little rented house in Clarksville, Tennessee, and I began exercising. I felt fine and seemed relatively healthy except for the red rash that appeared across my nose and cheeks. I looked like Mrs. Tomato Head, especially after exercising. Needless to say, I was embarrassed to be seen at the fitness center.

In September the skin on my hands became extremely sensitive. It felt like third-degree sunburn each time I handled the window shade cords or attempted to tie my shoelaces. Any object with a ridged or slightly rough texture caused a burning sensation. When October brought three raised red bumps to my forehead, it was time to get this mysterious disease investigated more thoroughly. Unfortunately, my first few visits to primary care doctors and physicians’ assistants (PAs) resulted in frustration and serious doubt about the medical profession. The first doctor told me the skin changes would subside in a couple weeks and not to worry about them. One PA told me I had rosacea (reddening of the facial skin that usually occurs in older adults). My eyes got big, my anger rose up, my mouth wanted to yell, “You have got to be kidding me! This isn’t rosacea! You’re not serious, are you?” Instead, I simply asked, “Are you sure this isn’t something more like lupus? After all, that’s what other doctors have suggested.” Then she shot a wide-eyed gaze at me as if I had no business questioning her. Gimme a break. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Eventually I landed in the office of a dermatologist who actually seemed to give a rip. Results of a skin biopsy led him also to “suspect” lupus. At this stage it only appeared to be discoid lupus – a less serious form that remains isolated to the skin. He did warn me, though, that it could become systemic, meaning full-blown Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (SLE). Hadn’t I heard that before from a certain periodontist in Hanau, Germany? Hmmm … I vaguely recall … Yes! Now two different doctors agreed with each other. In order to halt the progression of the disease, the dermatologist prescribed a drug called Plaquenil, an anti-malarial drug, interestingly enough. Did it help? I don’t remember, but I didn’t get malaria! Whew. Close call.

Following one of those uplifting dermatology appointments, I went to the restroom and examined my face in the mirror. Fear of the unknown swirled around within me as denial rose to the surface and evaporated. Reality was staring back at me. I inquired of the Lord, “Father, what’s happening to me? Is this rash going to scar me for life? Will it ever go away? Will I ever be the same? How long will this last?” The reflection in the mirror was of someone I never saw before and didn’t care to see repeatedly. I recalled the days when people complimented my skin. After this, could anyone bear to look at me?

God had the answers to my questions, and He chose to reveal them one step at a time, one symptom at a time, one day, one month, and one year at a time. The trial before me would be treacherous. It’s a good thing I didn’t know what was next.

TO BE CONTINUED …        

Women of PWOC, stay connected! In the coming weeks I will continue sharing my Journey of Transformation from being wounded and angry to healed and thriving. My purpose in sharing this story is to glorify God, to show the truth about Him, to display His goodness and provision in the midst of suffering, and to give you hope. No matter where you find yourself at this time in your life, be assured that God is trustworthy and faithful despite how you feel about Him. He does have good plans for you. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jer. 29:11).

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“Life Happens – Jesus Answers” is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

Have you ever heard this phrase before? Bloom where you are planted. This is a common phrase among Military Wives for sure, as we barely get time to grow some roots before we are plucked from the soil and seemingly cast to the wind, only to try to bloom someplace new. How about Home is Where the Army Sends You? I always stop and admire the charming signs that the concessionaire’s sell at the PX, the kind where you can purchase little tabs to hang underneath them designating each station you’ve lived at before. It hardly seems fair that they generally only come with three or four tabs when we need six or seven, and possibly more before we’re done.

As Military Wives we can often feel like we are just tagging along behind our husbands, moving at the Military’s whim. An afterthought. It can seem discouraging, and may be tempting not to unpack at all or meet the new neighbors. After all, you’ll only be moving again soon. In a world where the rule of thumb is to always use pencil in your address book, it’s easy to feel like you are being cast to the wind. But the truth of the matter is we are where He wants us. He sees each of us individually, loves us each individually and has plans for each and every one of us. You have a calling and a purpose unique to you.

When we received unexpected orders to PCS to Fort Polk in Louisiana with only six weeks notification, it was easy to feel buried under all the responsibilities and things that had to be done. It sure didn’t help that all of my friends expressed their sorrow that we were heading to Polk, their faces looking more appropriate to speaking to someone about the unexpected passing of a beloved family pet. I had planted firm roots in Heidelberg and the prospect of leaving made me feel like crying. I knew that I would be leaving part of myself when I left and wasn’t sure I wanted to set those roots in my new community.

I did though. God reminded me that I was never buried; only planted. I would Bloom here too and if I was willing, I could fulfill His plans for me here. I’m not in Louisiana at the whim of the Army, and not because I am tagging along behind my husband as he serves all over the world. God has a unique purpose for me. Me alone. And unless I open myself to him, and plant my roots, I’ll never be able to bloom and bear fruit for Him.

Look at Ruth. She left her homeland to follow Naomi, even though she could have gone home. She might have felt as we do sometimes, just another victim, tossed about by the world with no control over her own fate. Yet trusting in God, she followed the path he set her on, and was the ancestor of our Lord and Savior. Just as Ruth, we have to trust in His plan for us.

Home is not where the Army sends you. It’s where God takes you. When you stop letting yourself feel like a victim of the Military’s wants and whims, and see yourself as the Heroine of your own story, you will Bloom, you will bear fruit, and you will grow stronger in your Walk with Him