My husband and I had been married two-and-a-half years. During that time, we had been separated for 18 months due to military training and a deployment. We had also experienced two interstate moves, finished a doctoral dissertation and a Master’s thesis, bought a house, and had a job transition. Our hearts felt taxed by the separations, change, and stress. Now, eight-months pregnant with twins, we learned that my husband was most likely losing his job. He had confronted an unethical situation in his unit and was being punished. The stress of the past several years began to engulf me and in my tired state, I did not have the energy to fight back.
We prayed. No, actually, we begged God with tears and anguish to save my husband’s job. After all, he had done the right thing. He had sought to honor God and others and now he was experiencing injustice. We were about to welcome two little people into our family. It was not the ideal time to be without an income. Worry plagued my waking and sleeping hours. I felt it like a dark cloud, sapping the joy out of life. Despite the many times I had seen God’s hand at work in my life, I felt doubt. Would God prove faithful? Would He provide? Friends and family tried to encourage me that God was in control and His ways are best, but there was no solution acceptable to me other than God rescuing my husband’s career.
The weeks passed; our babies were born. We had two beautiful, healthy girls. My life became a haze of sleeping for 60-90 minutes between feedings and diaper changes. As my husband came home from work each day, I barely had the energy to hear the latest update. Hope for his career faded daily. Finally, when the girls were two-months-old, he came home from work with the boxes containing his belongings. He hung up the uniform he had worn for almost 18 years. At first, it seemed surreal. My definition of God’s faithfulness and provision could not bear the weight of our reality. I had a choice. Would I cling to my view that God should have rescued my husband’s job, or would I just let go and trust? I had to let go.
My husband began applying for other jobs. As we waited, we spent our days holding babies, talking, reading, praying, watching movies, and sleeping. Peace, even joy, began to seep back into our hearts and minds. Even as every potential job opportunity seemed to slipped away, we recognized and appreciated the gift of time together, something we had longed for in the first months of our marriage. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Our spending habits changed, our savings grew thin. Still we waited. I watched as my husband fell in love with our daughters. I grew to appreciate the help with two little ones. We worked on writing and home improvement projects. Then, after five months of unemployment, we received the call. Funding had been approved for a civilian job at my husband’s old headquarters. The department head, knowing his skills, was requesting him for the position. They were going to bypass the interview process. If he wanted the job, it was his.
God had provided. It was not my way or in my timing. No, indeed, my way would have deprived us of quality family time. It would have robbed my husband of an invaluable opportunity to bond with his infant daughters. My definition of God’s provision would have left my husband in a stressful job, rather than giving him time to recover from a discouraging season and placing him in a role where he is fulfilled and appreciated. My definition of God’s provision needed redefining. The girls just turned one. As I reflect on this past year, I am grateful for the gift of learning once again that God’s ways ARE higher than mine. The truth of Psalm 37 is alive; our God does provide for His children… in His own and perfect ways.