What are we teaching military kids?

Train up a child in the way he should go; Even when he is old he will not depart from it. - Proverbs 22:6

This month marks 16 years that our nation has been at war. Everyone is tired - our soldiers, their leaders, politicians and of course families.

Our military children struck me particularly hard this year - because they aren't all children anymore.

Think about it. All those "deployment babies" we winked and nodded over as members left for war in 2001 and came home in 2002 will be getting their drivers licenses this year. 

They are nearly adults, yet in many ways they have been adults for a long time. Military life in general can be hard on kids - moving every few years, being far from extended family, knowing your parent's job always comes first. 

Add to that 16 years of war. For their ENTIRE lives, these children watched their parents train for and then leave on deployments - now totalling 4, 6, 8 or more. They have spent an enormous percentage of their lives waiting and praying for Dad or Mom to come home safe. They have looked after younger siblings, looked after the remaining parent, taken on chores and worries no 15 year old should have to comprehend.

When they are little, most children know Dad is gone but they are shielded from the reality of war. Eventually, though, they know. They watch the news and hear the chatter. They know Mom is at risk even if she isn't a front-line soldier.

The best known parenting advice in the Bible tells us to train our children according to God's will. But I have to wonder in this environment, what are we teaching our kids? 

In the best cases, they are resilient, patriotic and service-minded. That is certainly true of most military kids I know - they are amazing.

At worst, they are closed off and feel abandoned. Indeed, research shows military children are more likely to experience anxiety, depression, behavior problems and even substance abuse than civilian kids. The risk of maltreatment also escalates, when the remaining parent can't cope with stress.

The Department of Defense knows this, and it has tried to instill programs and training and awareness campaigns to build resilience and ensure stability in families. I commend them for that, but it is not a solution.

As conflicts continue to simmer around the world, and politicians throw around antagonizing words, please think about our kids. They did not ask for this. We do not yet know how it will change them as adults. I hope it is for the good. 

In the meantime, spouses and families will be strong and work together and fill in the holes left by a parent missing ball games, holidays, and teaching you to drive.

PCS advice: It's OK to want to go home

"In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world." - John 16:33

Congratulations! 

Your orders are in, and you have one of the military's coveted "good deals:" Hawaii, Germany, Japan. Your friends are jealous as you imagine all kinds of travel, food, and new adventures.

Upon arrival, it seems like a weird, extended vacation as you figure out your new home. You tackle the language with enthusiasm. The food is amazing. And those little cars are so cute!

And then...
You find yourself sitting alone while the other moms chat at ballet in a language that still doesn't even sound like words. You want to make your husband his favorite meal but Italian sausage is nowhere to be found. And you scrape the rental car on the side of the garage because why is everything so tiny?! (All true stories)

The bubble bursts into a thousand tears into a big glass of wine. So like any woman, you call your mom/sister/best friend and declare you want to go home.

God bless them, they inevitably say: "Think about the opportunities!" If they weren't thousands of miles away, you would punch them in the face.

Opportunities! All I want is normal.

You hang up the phone and the next - unexpected - wave of emotion hits: guilt.

They are right. I have this great opportunity, why am I so miserable? Should I be more grateful? Am I not cut out for this military life? What's wrong with me?

Nothing.

You are amazing.

From one expat military wife to another, I hereby absolve you of all PCS guilt. 

All of us seem to feel this, but everyone is afraid to talk about it. So please know, there is no shame in your frustration and even in wanting to go home.

Moving - even in the States - is hard. New house, new friends, new schools. Then throw in language and culture and distance and it's enough to send the most resilient of us to the therapist - if you can find one that speaks English. 

It's OK to say Germany/Japan/Hawaii sucks. Because sometimes it does. One of my dear friends regularly says, "there are good German days and bad German days."

Over time, there will be more good than bad. After all, in Europe, ice cream or wine is almost always within walking distance. The church bells still ring every 15 minutes. And your kids will adapt far faster than you.

Sometimes you just need a good cry or a long walk. Talk to your spouse. Find another spouse who has been there. Exercise. Pray - I am the first to admit I haven't been as good at this. You don't have to be super creative. The rote prayers from childhood are sometimes best when we need something familiar.

I found the above verse on one of my bad German days. It reminds me everyone struggles, but we will come out the other side - stronger and better for the "opportunity." 

The Power of Work

"Aspire to live a tranquil life, mind your own affairs and work with your own hands." - 1 Thess. 4:11

I have a job - a couple in fact! I've even submitted invoices, but that's far less important that feeling useful and using God's gifts.

When we made the move to Germany, I knew working would be tough. I am lucky to work for a wonderful organization full of great people at home (Volunteers of America), and they said they would keep sending some writing/editing work my way even after we moved. For the most part though, I have been unemployed as I waded through the various tax and legal implications of attempting to work here.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church says this, "Unemployment almost always wounds its victim's dignity and threatens the equilibrium of his life." (2436)  I get it. For months, I didn't quite feel like me. And my husband can vouch for the last part of that paragraph: "Besides the harm done to him personally, it entails many risks for his family." In my case, that's random meltdowns and far more stress than a person should have when they are not working (and don't need to financially).

My work has never been about making money or becoming important. For the 15 years of my working life, my careers have been about serving the community as a journalist and in the nonprofit sector. To me, it was always a calling and a ministry. Being at home left me with an acute sense of being disconnected from my community and indeed from my faith.

The Catechism backs me up: "Work honors the Creator's gifts and the talents received from him. ... In work, the person exercises and fulfills in part the potential inscribed in his nature." (2427-8) So, if I am no longer using my talents in the way God has led me, what am I doing? What is my purpose?

Yes, I am taking care of my husband and our daughter. Those are critical, life giving parts of my vocation. But they are parts. God did not give me the talent or drive to entertain a preschooler all day or keep a perfect house. It has taken me a while to come to terms with that, and I regularly ask myself if I am making excuses -- but that is a post for another day.

I do know without a doubt God wants me to tell His story through the lives of our brothers and sisters. Thanks to technology, wonderful contacts and some new opportunities I am able to continue.

The last several months also gave me an appreciation for those who, for whatever reason, are not working. At Volunteers of America, work of some kind is a critical part of treatment plans for people with disabilities and Veterans. Work has power. Through it we create and contribute to our world.

May God bless all who labor and those who are seeking to use his gifts in service to their families and communities.

Cleanliness, Godliness and me

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." Psalm 51:10

The annual January organization blitz is in full force this year. The release of Marie Kondo's follow up to “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up,” the rise of "Bullet Journals," and of course the sales on bins and organization systems all promise new ways to make our lives more orderly.

I am the first to admit I am in great need of such systems. I am a terrible housekeeper (sorry Mom - you did teach me better). And since I stopped working regularly, the lack of structure in my day means time seems to get away from me more, and I'm not as productive. 

So the Kondo book is on order, and I actually kind of like this Bullet Journal thing to keep my runaway thoughts and lists in one place. Maybe 2016 will be the year I restore some order and sanity to my life.

Since our physical world is so connected to the spiritual, the need for order has religious implications as well. In this Washington Post column, Author Karen Swallow Prior explores this connection. She clarifies "cleanliness is next to Godliness" is John Wesley, not the Bible, but adds the saying is rooted in a long history of connections between physical and spiritual cleanliness.

"The desire to create order amid chaos, to resist the dirt of decay, reflects the order and purity of the one who created us," she said.

But if taken to extreme, cleanliness and tidiness can bring us to a Pharisaical scrupulousness. The Old Testament is full of rules for cleanliness.

Worse, as we immerse ourselves in this organizational overhaul we can start to think we control the world around us. When it doesn't fit in our nice, neat boxes, we are lost. Even Kondo has a place for things that are necessary but don't fit in her mantra of "sparking joy," like can openers. Life can't always be ordered according to our wishes. 

Cleanliness and tidiness are certainly marks of good stewardship for what God has given us. But God is always in control. In that knowledge, we find peace.

May you be blessed with a clean house, and more importantly a right spirit.

The light has come!

"They were overjoyed at seeing the star." Matthew 2:10

Happy Epiphany!

Today's Gospel revolves around a star casting such a great light it attracted the magi from a distant land. 

It's the culmination of the last 12 days of Scripture about Christ as the light of the world: 

On Christmas Eve: "The glory of the Lord shone around them."

The Second Sunday of Christmas: "This life was the light of the human race."

And today, the appearance of the star. 

Thanks to my first winter in Germany, I finally get it. 

It is dark here, y'all. People warned me. They told me to take my Vitamin D. But nothing really prepares you for sunset at about 4:30 p.m. and sunrise at 8:45 a.m. The picture here is our walk to Kindergarten a little after 8. Even at "high" noon, the sun is just over the houses across the street.

Darkness oppresses and isolates. I don't want to get out of bed, and I would rather just hole up in the house. Darkness heightens fear and encourages suspicion. It limits us.

But in the light -- in Christ -- we can see the beauty of the world. We trust our senses and our judgement of the people and places we encounter. We are free.

In the German church, Epiphany is still celebrated on the 6th of January, and it marks the official end of the Christmas season. The city will pick up our tree tomorrow, and the decorations will return to the basement.

But the light remains. We will continue to celebrate with Karneval, and each day will bring a little more light. 

May we reflect the same light of Christ in our lives.

Rejoicing in routine

"Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving." - Colossians 4:2

Happy New Year! 

Today is the first Monday of 2016, which always feels like the first real day of the year. Husband returned to work. Kiddo goes back to school tomorrow, and I am praying for a sense of routine and normal.

A few months ago, my friend Katie posted this piece she called "The Thrill of the Dull and Mundane Life." I think she expected the title to be paradoxical, but to me it sounded an elusive dream. 

"On one of my hardest mornings," she wrote. "I waved goodbye to Andrew from the porch and, seeing a plane soar overhead, I cried because I wished so painfully that I were on it."

As I read that paragraph, I cried because I so wanted her normal routine of home and kids and school and church. 

For about six months, we have lived in a state of semi-controlled chaos. From learning of our new assignment, to moving to figuring out what it means to live abroad, nothing has been normal. Being in Europe is great, but despite my Facebook posts, it's not all travel and adventure. We have to LIVE here.

Everything -- from banking to grocery shopping to taking out the garbage - requires a language/cultural interpretation. Everything takes longer than I think it should. Those little things add up, so something as simple as looking at a cook book is likely to lead to frustration when I realize I can't get cheddar cheese or cream of chicken soup for a casserole.

A recent near-catastrophe at the bank reminded me of the power of gratitude. Once it was resolved, and I realized I had not in fact lost $1300, I went to the Christmas program at the Kindergarten. The kids sang, and we ate cookies, and I felt a renewed sense of thanksgiving. All of the other frustrations of the day melted away.

Paul wrote the above passage while he was in prison. He must have been frustrated and scared, but this chapter doesn't show it. Instead he speaks with confidence and thanksgiving that his ministry will continue. In thanksgiving, he keeps perspective on the mission.

I still pray for some sense of normal, and I'm hopeful that the new year will bring more routine. But my resolution is to live with more gratitude, and in this Year of Mercy, to pray for God's mercy. 

No matter where 2016 takes us, a spirit of thanksgiving means we will always feel God's blessings.

Reclaim the spirit of love

"God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love" - 2 Timothy 1:7


Watching the news lately, it would be easy to succumb to fear. It's a natural first reaction when innocent people lose their lives so suddenly and violently.

As I watched the story from Paris and the reaction unfold, a sense of unease set it. All of this circle the wagons talk just didn't seem right -- or Christian. Then I remembered the above verse from 2 Timothy.

And this one from Matthew 6: "And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?"

And Isaiah 41:10, "Do not fear, for I am with you."

And for the pop culture philosophers out there, from Yoda himself: "Fear is the path to the dark side."

As the news keeps coming and borders tighten, fear seems the easier path. Fear of another attack. Fear of refugees. Fear of Muslims. We cannot give in to the hysteria of that fear. Fear is not of God. 

When we spread fear, we are playing the same game as the terrorists. Fr. Frederico Lombardi, Vatican Spokesman said it well in the National Catholic Reporter: "These murderers, possessed by a senseless hatred, are called ‘terrorists’ precisely because they want to spread terror. If we let ourselves be frightened, they will have already reached their first objective."

Instead, God asks us to be strong and to love. God's love is not schmaltzy or weak. He didn't give us the spirit of doormats. God's love means we look at each other as created in his image. Gods love, when reflected in us, has the power to change even the most difficult situations. 

Our town is home to a number of refugee families from the Middle East. My contact with them has been limited, but I can offer two images:

One is a man in my German class. He is intelligent, friendly and hard working. He is often one of the first ones to answer questions and reminds everyone to speak in German instead of their native language. He knows he will have to learn the language to work and create a better life.

Another are the people we walk past each Sunday on our way to Mass. One or two will kneel on the hard cobblestones with a hat upturned. Their posture is striking and makes the passerby physically uncomfortable. A coin in the hat brings a smile, thankful they are closer to the necessities they need and perhaps just thankful someone saw them as human.

Neither case prompts any sense of fear. I am more likely to admire their courage and feel pain at their need. 

Understanding that pain and finding solutions for people in need is hard. Spotting the different among us and cultivating fear is easy. May we have the courage to do the hard thing and create a spirit of love.