Diary of a Soldier’s wife (looking back 20 yrs)

May 12, 2011

I used to day dream about being married to a man like Superman; a journalist in the day, and a vigilante at night. At times I would see myself caught in the crossfire between his enemies and his allies. When he finally found me, wasn’t sure it was he; maybe because he was not like my fantasy. I remember looking across the room at his face during an international flight, when a friend asked me about my fiancé. He asked me if we hoped to be together forever and I wondered to myself looking across the room, if I wanted to spend my always with this man that was yet to meet my fantasy. All I could do to keep my friend from probing further was smile sheepishly and nod. Then I changed the topic to how tired I was and I would love to sleep in the next day.

Things changed all of a sudden and before I knew it, I sitting in a van looking at my fiancé getting behind the wheels of an armored personnel carrier. Before zooming off, he blew me a kiss and said he love me. That began a turnaround in my love story; my fantasy could no longer be…

We got married about 4 years after and though I don’t remember the wedding ceremony I do remember how I would hold him in my embrace each time he got back, knowing that I soon would have to say goodbye again. I remember going to the base each time they were back from their tours, which took months, sometimes years. Though I would try to be strong, he knew too well how I had suffered in silence, especially in his absence.

Though he is retired after investing 44 years of his life in his country, I can’t forget that sensation, that awareness of him that was always in my heart when I think of him so far away… I can’t call it feeling, because it was more than that; I could always sense he was alive, when he was in danger. I always knew he needed my prayers. My trouble years as a teenager and a young woman paid off, as they served as a training ground for me to pray for my husband day and night. I would pray and pray for him until all strength went out of me. I would pray for his protection, that he would be a light to every unit he was posted to, drawing everyone to Christ with his life. He became a beacon that everyone looked to and he never wasted time in pointing them to Christ. He was one of the few soldiers that never fell ill; he didn’t even have a single bullet wound throughout his military career. So that stood him out; he either wasn’t going his job or there was something different about him. And there was; he has Christ and a praying wife who loves him. I don’t know whether it is right for Christians to be soldiers and go to war “killing people.” But, I do know this: God protects Christian Soldier out there on the battlefield; my husband is a testimony.

God has used his life to save many young Soldiers out there on the field; whether on camp while they were chatting, while a soldier on his unit was mortally wounded and he led him to Christ on his last breath or when all else failed (especially medical science,) and he had to lay his hand on the young in faith that Jesus is the healer. He was never a preacher out there, but he always took his time to talk about the God he know for himself and God did use him for the Soldiers of our country that went out with him. His career was a fairy tale that was all too real.

Now, we spent our time counseling young military men and women; he counsels the mostly the soldiers and I focus on their wives and families, helping them go through life in the military with the ease that comes with having the Grace of God upon your life.

I waited all my life to have a good Christian man, but every night I lie beside him, watching him go to rest after laying down every troubles at the Master’s feet, I simply thank God for giving me the BEST Christian man as my husband. I asked for cake, but He gave it to me with icing, so that even after 57 years of marriage, he is the next best thing that ever happened to me after salvation.

-Amanda

Stood up at the altar

Most of us are not unfamiliar with stories like this; a groom left standing by the altar waiting for a bride that is never gonna come. This might come as a shock to most people, but I was one of such brides.

For those who don’t like reading romance, this might be the best place to stop reading… This is definitely a love story. You just might as well continue, since you’ve come this far. By the way, the story has a turn to it.

Earlier this year, I left my groom at the altar and ran away… What was I thinking? I’ll tell you. ‘Yabut…’ ‘What if’ ‘Is this it?’ ‘Can I…’ ‘Well, yes, but…’ My mind was reeling with a lot of uncompleted statements, phrases, questions and comments, as I picked the pen to write. This was our longtime dream. It was going kick off. Couple of minutes earlier, I’d just read the last words of a book I’ve had for about two, three months now. The words were “you will succeed.” Well… Oh, before I go on, permit me, if you will, to tell you about our dreams, how it all started.

I had written JAMB the second time and I wasn’t going stay at home because I didn’t have up to 270 to enter in Accounting. So, I went for the Shortfalls, they call it. The best choice was Foreign Languages. I chose German because it was different but my father thought better of French since we’re surrounded by Francophone countries. So I picked up French, Matric came and went by… Thought about changing courses, as did a lot of others, I picked up another JAMB form, the exams which I never wrote, as something made me decide to face French squarely with all I’ve got.

Second Semester, First Year still hadn’t decided what to do with French after school. At least I needed to them people something else other than “oh, you’ll work at the embassy” “oh, you gonna have to teach” blah blah blah. So we got talking about it. He had been an old Friend, but something happened and we fell… in love my first semester in school. By the way, Greatest IFE! We talked on, then He asked me what I thought about Translation; working as a translator. I thought it was cool, but Journalism was better. Somewhere along the line, I decided I want to make the news, not just report it, except if only I get to report the news way before it happens. So, translation became more attractive than journalism.

I know you’re bored… You can go for tea break, but I sure am not gonna wait for you.

At one time during the break after my first year, we got talking; you know how young lovers talk some sweet nonsense into each other’s ears. That day, He was talking to my heart, though I listened with my ears; we girls have a way of hearing what’s not said, forgetting what is.  Anyway, He suggested I picked up German as a second language; make it a Combined Honor Degree, though that would mean spending an extra year. I was okay with it, as that will give me the chance to graduate alongside my friends, most of whom were studying five year courses. That was all I saw; graduating with my friends. It was all the motivation I needed at the time.

Then a new session began, I was in part one, year two, as I had to step down a year to take on another language. So I would boast to my friends that I was getting double for my troubles; B.A. French and German (Combined Honours) while most of them would leave with single honor in B.Sc and B.Engr. That was second-level motivation.

Then I ended up in a class of my own, literary speaking, though I had always being in the class of my own. I was the only in my set doing those two languages together, the other person that tried has English as her second language, not German. So, we would have forms to fill and I would have to request for a special form, since the former didn’t apply to me. It wasn’t funny when we changed to E-registration. There was no field for my ‘customised’ course, so I wasn’t a registered student of OAU until I went to the Computer Center of the School to help them improve their database, by putting in my name. Lots of things are never complete till I get there.

I… aaaaaaaaam sleeeeeeeepy, I will just stop here. Oh! You’re still reading, then I’ve got to continue. Where was I?

I fell in and out of our dreams a couple of times. We would break up and make up too many times to count. I’m sure Helost count. He just made up His mind never to leave me by myself; especially times when I think I have it all together. He’s such a… Oh I should not forget to tell you how much I love Him. It’s just that… love is a word… it’s too complicated to describe, and were I to sing it, I sure am gonna be off-key. So, I will just leave it and move on with my story. We had some things planned for this year but they all had not happen. We, or should I say, I not we planned quite something for the year. So I didn’t have the proof I needed to be sure that the decision of that day was not going to be the beginning of failed dreams and a lifelong time of disappointment. If I had been half as sure as I am today, I would not have walked away, standing Him up at the altar as I did. Or maybe I would… that’s one thing I might never stop wondering about. Since I am writing this story way after my bedtime, I not gonna be using lofty words as I don’t have the luxury of dictionaries right now.

So I read those last words of a book written by one of the wisest men of our time. It says “you will succeed.” No wonder I picked up my pen, yes my famous pen, dictionaries and thesaurus to translate the book. Oh I didn’t forget my notepad, or what was I gonna write on? My palms? That would be full before I…

I began to write. After the first two sentences, I stopped short; I had developed cold feet. My feet couldn’t have been colder if I had walked barefooted for miles on snow. So I quit our dreams, just when it was about starting. I left Him at the altar. I didn’t even peep to catch one last look at His lovely face. I ran, fast as my feet could carry me, cold as they were. I spent 8 months away from our dreams of 9 years. Then it all caught up with me the tenth day of the ninth month. Just like the prodigal son, I felt it was better to be a servant than a scavenger. So I went back to my Love, myHeartbeat. And you know the amazing thing; I found Him. He was waiting. He had waited all this 8 months, right where I left Him; at the altar. Did we share our vows? No! We adopted His. We went back to His vows, His Mandate; to love me whatever happens, keeping me by His side always.

And oh, I took up His name. After all that is what you do when you get married. Since I am gonna have to be with Himalways, I made up my mind, right there at the altar, to do whatever He does. After all when He found me I was already in Him, doing what He was doing.

Who am I? What do I do? And how? I am Seyi Falufosi El-Shaddai. I am a co-creator with the Creator. I create worlds with words. By making words that re-create the thoughts of people. I am a Bilingual Translator, we re-create worlds in the mind of people you cannot directly talk to. God had me in mind when He intervened in the project at Babel. And again on the day of Pentecost.

Now you know my story. What’s yours?