How This Day is Still Impacting Our Lives

The other day I was talking about the events of 9/11 with my mother-in-law.

As the conversation progressed I realized the great significance those horrible events have had on my life. 

I was 12, living in California and shortly there after our family moved to Montana. The move had already been in progress, but was expedited by the terrorist attacks. I remember desperately wanting to find some way to help.

Roman was 17, a young volunteer firefighter living in Montana. His dream of being a soldier changed that day from boyish fancy to manly purpose. He would have gone to New York in a heartbeat if he was just a little bit older.

On this, the 13 year anniversary of the attacks, we are 25 and 30 years old. For years Roman has participated in memorials for the 343 firefighters who died that day, as well as the many others. This year he has become a soldier. 

I am so proud to be the wife of this man. He is not a firefighter because it is cool (though he certainly enjoys those moments).  Nor is he a soldier because he wants recognition.  

Roman possesses a deep conviction that he is called to help others. Where there is chaos and disaster he knows that is where he needs to be. The calling of God for him is compassion for the weak, and the defense of the the oppressed.

This calling is why I sit on my lonely bed, missing him terribly in the cold nights. This calling is what I tell my three little ones about when they ask why Daddy is gone. This calling is why it has rarely bothered me to watch him answer that beeping pager. I have seen the visible truth that those who serve others, receive much from that service.

The words of Christ ring in my heart,

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

Anticipation

 

Anticipation is a odd feeling. It contains a spectrum of emotions ranging from dread to excitement.
Right now I am experiencing both ends of that spectrum.

Next week Roman leaves to begin training with the National Guard. It will be over two months before we see him again, provided I can save up the necessary travel funds to transport myself and three children across the country. If I can't we won't see him until Christmas. And he won't be home for good until February.

Roman has wanted join the military ever since 9/11. The weight of conviction he has for this pursuit is astounding. Joining the heritage of thousands before him, answering the call of duty and honor. I know that he will succeed in everything he puts his hand too, because he has a strong passion, a noble character, and a great faith in a Sovereign God. 

My own faith feels weak right now. As I stare down the blank weeks on my calendar and ache at the thought of not being able to speak to him every day. We have had a fair amount of separation for work in the past, but this will be longer and with less chances to hear his voice. I have three young children, two of whom will ask daily, "Where is Daddy?" and "Why can't we go get him from work?" Too young to understand the concept of time, but old enough to notice that things will be different. And we will pray every night for Daddy at 'armies work' (to quote Ethan).

In addition to Roman being gone for training, events in the world remind me of the probability of his being deployed to dangerous places. The Cold War with Russia seems to have come out of deep freeze, while ISIS proves to the world that Islam is far from a religion of peace. The USA is hardly peaceful territory with the media frenzy surrounding Ferguson.

While I could spout my many opinions on all of the above (and as a history buff they are quite thorough), mostly they remind me that my husband is needed. There will always be manipulative, aggressive, and tyrannical leaders who need to be stood against. There must always be faithful men and women ready uphold truth, justice, and mercy.

What does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8

I believe that Roman will come home, and I think that our marriage will be stronger for this time apart. I am excited to see how he will change and grow. I do dread the coming weeks of solo parenting, but I am so proud of what Roman is accomplishing that I can say to my children, "Your daddy is awesome!" without bitterness.

Plus, I will be able to write amazing love letters!




Long distance relationship advice from WW2 letters.

A Challenge I Was Given and How I Have Acheived It

This weekend marks the fourth Thanksgiving of my marriage to Roman Mallery. Each year we have had the over-indulgent, and highly enjoyable experience of a table-loaded meal with our respective parents and siblings (on separate days, thankfully). This year is no different, all the usual hallmarks of the holiday, traditional dishes, family games, the round-the-table-expressions-of-particular-thanks. Every year the table is a little more crowded as many babies rapidly swell our ranks (my in-laws have twelve grandkids and counting). A crazy weekend to kick of the round of holidays.

In this big picture story, there are always details that form us. Details like dessert. Every year I have contributed to the dessert table. While my dear husband has raved about my cooking skills from day 1, there is one area where I never quite measured up to his expectations.
 Pies.
And a Thanksgiving without pie would be drastic.
It seems I had rather a lot to live up to in the pie department. Roman's dear Grandma Mallery is a pie maker whose fame has spread across the northwest. All who know her rave about her pies. Roman's mother is not bad herself, and one of my sister-in-laws has a knack for the flakiest piecrusts you will find anywhere. So with each November I find myself scouring my cookbooks and the internet to make a pie that my husband truly enjoys. Last year I pulled off a Sweet Potato Meringue Pie that knocked his socks off and this year I think I may be able to join the ranks of Mallery women and their pies. The lard piecrusts have been far more successful than butter. Lard rendered from the pig we helped raise and now stocks our freezer. Yesterday's Apple-Sour-Cream-Crumb Pie achieved the highest praise from my husband yet. Last weekend I made a test pumpkin pie that was rapidly consumed by my son, daughter, and husband. Today I made three more Pumpkin Pies for our Mallery gathering tomorrow and if my son's longing gaze is any indicator, they should be alright.

In conclusion,

I may not ever achieve the level of recognition that Grandma Mallery has in her 80+ years,

and I don't think pie will ever be my specialty.

However, I think have given my husband a satisfactory improvement in the last four years

and I can safely say that I have accomplished a great personal challenge.

And buying a pastry mat, the kind that marks each size circle, has been the smartest purchase this baking season.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

 

These Are A Few of My Favorite Things

"I have found a direct correlation between my eagerness and ability to simplify our family life—to live holistically with our life’s purpose—with how well I’m taking care of myself. True story. And yet the terribly ironic thing is that the best kind of self-care is the simple kind."
Read the rest of this good advice: Tsh's article on Self-care

And what are a few of my favorite things?

Beautifully bound volumes of wonderful words

Running my fingers along the piano keys in simple melodies

The sweet and delicate fragrance of lily-of-the-valley

A wide ocean beach

The graceful strength of a ballet dancer.

A date night with my dear and loving husband!

Nature Photograhy

Roman and I went down to the Swan River for a little walk and some fishing the other day. Didn't catch anything but certainly enjoyed the summer day!

Wild roses smell heavenly.

Forget-me-not is such a lovely flower.

A creek running into the river.

He is just amazing!

We feasted on gooseberries.

The wild mile of the Swan River

My Crazy Boys

Life with a toddler can be busy, life with a toddler boy can be crazy, and when Mum leaves Dad in charge things can spin out of control.

It was quiet June evening; Mum and Baby Girl had gone to help Auntie and Girl Cousin with a bridal shower, so Dad and Boyo were entertaining Uncle and Boy Cousins 1, 2, and 3. Dinner was over, Disney was playing on Netflix, Daddy and Uncle went outside to test a small business venture. There is a slight debate over the length of time they were gone (somewhere between 5 seconds and 5 minutes), but it was long enough for Boyo to find Mum's bright red lipstick and spread it throughout the 1500 square feet of our apartment. The fathers turned to the window to see a two-year-old boy covered in red. The initial thoughts of blood drew them to the horrifying scene of red smashed into the carpet, spread on the toys, kneaded into the couch's and spattered on Mum and Dad's brand-spanking-new bedspread. After a few choice words, Boy Cousin 1 was asked why he didn't come get them. The six-year-old responded with a very thoughtful, "I don't know." A mad frenzy of cleaning followed, the anxious fathers googling every known and unknown remedy to handle the stains. In addition to large quantities of stain remover and bleach, hairspray and nail polish remover were also effective at removing the red tint from our furniture. Uncle also dashed to Home Depot (running over a metal tricycle in the process) to rent a deep-cleaning vacuum which whisked away the lipstick, dirt, and who knows what else! Mum, having helped Auntie (who is pregnant with #5) clean up the last bits of party evidence, arrived home to find every light on, Boyo sleeping in his lipstick stained shirt, the washing machine and dryer humming full force, and Dad frantically vacuuming the still-damp carpet. After hearing the whole story, Mum could not help but laugh at the crazy and sweet man before her. His puppy eyes begged for forgiveness, and she gave it quite readily. After all, life with boys is bound be a little messy!

The Husband and Father

Roman is a volunteer firefighter/EMT and I am so proud of him for that pursuit. When the page goes out in the middle of the night, during a meal, or while we are on the road he is ready to answer. I am so glad that this is the example of selflessness being set before my children, and hope they always look up to him as their personal hero.

Daddy will always catch him

Future Volunteer

A Reminder

Roman must continually remind me of this, because I like things to go according to plan.