What, me worry?

One of my favorite guilty pleasures as a child was probably MAD magazine. The magazine probably was a little too old for me, and I'm not entirely sure my parents knew I read it, but I laughed at the goofy artwork and the dark humor of strips like Spy vs. Spy. I also remember the weird looking kid that always appeared in the magazine, usually on the cover - Alfred E. Neuman and his signature phrase, "What, me worry?"

Yes.

I worry. I worry a lot. Probably more than is healthy. And this pending deployment and all that it involves has pegged my worry meter. I worry about everything from the cross-country trip we're about to make to move my wife and kids back East for the year to finances to the stresses that work has placed on me.

It's funny how God intercedes though. He doesn't just *poof* make all the worry go away, but He certainly has a way of reminding me who's really boss. The title of yesterday's sermon - truly at a moment I felt completely overwhelmed - was "Time to Let Go of Worry." (You'll be able to listen to it here once it's posted.)

Pastor Chico delivered this sermon at just the right time, and it was exactly what I needed to here.

"Do not worry about anything, but pray and ask God for everything you need, always giving thanks." - Philippians 4:6

Easier said than done, especially for a pathological worrier like me. By worrying I am essentially telling God I don't trust His promises. Ouch. For little ol' me to tell the Creator I don't trust him is pretty bold.


Pastor Chico then laid out the reasons why we shouldn't worry:
- It's unnatural (We don't worry about the right things anyway)
- It's unhelpful (Nothing happens when you worry)
- It's unnecessary (God has already promised to supply all our needs)
- It's unchristian (According to one commentator the pastor quoted, "Worry is practical atheism")

Instead, our pastor suggested we put God first before all else (Matt. 6:33), don't live in the past or future (Matt. 6:34), and take all worries to God (Matt. 6:30).

I have precious few days left with my family before I depart. I could fill them with worry and stress and a sour attitude about everything that's going on. That would be unfortunate - I'd be ruining time that I could be making wonderful memories with my wife and children.

Thank you God for that message at church yesterday.

My worries are Yours.

Saying Goodbye

The family we had in town for the last couple weeks leaves today.

While our house will be back to "normal," I'm sad to have to say goodbye. I know that Grace enjoyed having her two cousins around. She finally had pint-sized playmates besides the dog almost 24/7. Timothy had more than enough people to hold and rock him, and The Wife and I had other adults to talk to (simple things, really).

There's more to this goodbye for me though. What kept me from falling back asleep this morning - besides Timothy wriggling in  my arms fighting off his own sleep - was the realization that this goodbye means I'm closer to the one I've been dreading for a while now.

In the not-to-distant future I'll be separated from my family for a year.

A whole year.

Those words are like a punch in the gut every time I think about them.

I've deployed before. My wife and I were barely six months into our first year of marriage when I went to Afghanistan. Half of our first "honeymoon" year was through bad phone connections, e-mail, and grainy video chats.

While that deployment was certainly difficult at times, this is going to be even tougher. I'm going for twice as long and now there's two kids who grow and change every day. That's 365 days of change I'll miss.

I know that my wife and kids will be well taken care of while I'm gone, and I'm going to be busy most of the time, but I'm sad knowing I'll miss Timothy's first steps, Grace's ever-expanding vocabulary grow into full sentences, and the fact that The Wife has to balance everything on her own. She didn't ask to be a single mother, and yet my service is forcing that for a while.

Don't get me wrong though. I'm proud of what I do, and my wife supports and helped make the decision that I should stay in the Marines. It was a decision made with lots of prayer, and we believe this is where God wants me right now. We'll make it through, just like we did at the beginning of our marriage.

But goodbyes suck.

Whether it's goodbye after two weeks with your sister and her amazing family, or it's goodbye to the people that complete your life.

Goodbyes suck.

Halloween and confidence

It's amazing what parents will put themselves through to ensure their child has fun. However - speaking as a subject matter expert - kids under two rarely cooperate.

We have family in town this week, and since last night was Halloween we thought it would be fun to get everyone dressed up and go trick or treating at our church's annual "Trunk or Treat." More on that in a minute. The whole event really started when we first put everyone in costumes.

Timothy, being four months old, was pretty indifferent to the whole thing. The visiting cousins, especially the oldest, were pretty excited about dressing up. And I figured Grace would be too. She had happily picked out her costume at the store (a cow) and mooed at it when she saw me take it off the hanger to get her ready. I thought she'd be equally as thrilled to wear it. Not so much.

Her first words when she looked at herself in the mirror?

"All done. All done."

But of course, we parents weren't done. We had to mark this special occasion with photos. Here's the best shot I could get:

"Trunk or Treat" was really cool. Tons of costumes, tons of candy, and a 30-foot inflatable slide. Each of the 50 or so cars that kids could walk up to were decorated to a theme. There was a pirate ship, more than a few luaus, and an homage to Charlie Brown's Great Pumpkin.

Grace may not have been excited before, but I thought for sure she'd turn when she saw all of this going on. Not so much.

There were probably about 500 people when we showed up. The crowd, the noise, and a bunch of weird costumes equaled this reaction:

She immediately wanted to be held. Every trunk we went to, she'd bury her face in my shoulder. Our daughter usually will go to any outstretched arms, but she clung on to me for dear life. Timothy, still indifferent, passed out in the stroller.

Grace eventually let go of me and went with The Wife to go up to trunks. She, with much more patience than me, was able to convince our daughter to let go and start walking up to people to get candy. So as the evening progressed, our little cow got a little bit more confidence and even started to enjoy herself.

I really enjoyed myself too. I was proud watching her waddle up to a trunk in her overstuffed costume, looking up at the person holding all the candy, and sticking out her treat bag. Her overcoming fears and gaining confidence had me beaming.

So, even though Halloween for us started a bit hectic, and we may have forced costumes and picture time on our children, I think the effort was worth it in the end. Through the strange tradition of dressing up and approaching strangers to get candy, our daughter grew.