I am not a finisher.
There have been countless things in my life that I have left unfinished. Books. Diets. Laundry. Online classes. Dishes. Journals. Conversations.
A few things I've finished of my own choice. High school. College. A 5K. (Barely made that one.)
And then there have been a few things that I have been forced into finishing. Pregnancy, for one. (I was incredibly grateful for healthy babies, one in particular who WAY overstayed her welcome in my body.) Chores.
And now it comes down to this. The hardest thing I've ever done in my life: Andrew's deployment. Whether I will finish it, I have no choice. He will be gone the full 4 months whether I like it or not. My choice lies in what I do about that. I can kick and scream and complain and cry, or I can hold my head high and do with dignity what needs to be done. I would love to say at the end of this, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith." (2 Tim. 4:7)
I'm now two days past our mark of the longest Andrew and I have ever been apart. And I have to say, I feel like I'm doing remarkably well. I haven't had a single moment where things got so hard with the kids that I couldn't do it anymore. I haven't cried myself to sleep or fallen into the depths of depression like I thought I might.
But it's certainly not due to my own strength; it's those ministering angels that I was promised would watch over me. I have yet to feel abandoned or helpless. Although we're only 16 days into this deployment, with plenty more to go, I'm feeling good. I'm living proof that "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." (Phil. 4:13)