What would you do...

...if your husband, who normally gets home from work at 6:30 a.m., was not home when you woke up at 7 a.m.? And if your husband's cell phone was currently not working, so he didn't have it with him?

I decided to get up, make breakfast, do my normal Bible study workbook, and try not to worry. About every five minutes, I'd pray, God, please keep him safe.

I made breakfast, sat down to eat it, and looked at the clock. I attempted to journal some in my workbook, and looked at the clock. God, please keep him safe. He's probably fine. I did some dishes, then went and washed my face, trying to maintain a normal morning routine (and looked at the clock).

I debated about whether to call the ops floor to see if he was still at work.

I decided to wait until 9 a.m. to call, and in the meantime, rehearsed what I'd say: Hi, may I speak to the MC [guy in charge], please? Hi, sir, this is Marisa Allen. My husband, Lt Sean Allen, is teaching a mid-shift course in the Mod 5/6 sim, and he hasn't come home yet. Could you please see if anyone knows where he is? (I'd feel pretty sheepish making that call, which is most of the reason I was going to wait so long.)

I thought, maybe his car broke down somewhere along the way-- 14 miles of pretty-rustic roads, replete with cow fields, cracked asphalt, and not much traffic. The base is out in the boonies, but people do work there, so maybe someone will drive by. And he's got no cell phone, so he either has to wait for that someone to stop, or try and find a farm or somebody with a telephone.

I wondered if I should drive out along the route he normally takes and see if that was in fact the case: stranded husband ran out of gas halfway home.

I thought, maybe they locked down the portals (telephone-booth-like structures dividing the "restricted area" where he works from the rest of the base) and they're not letting anyone in or out. This happens somewhat often, delaying people for 30 or 45 minutes, or more.

I thought about calling my mom: um, Sean's not home yet. Do you think I should call the ops floor? Or can you pray for me? But it was pretty early in the morning and I didn't want to alarm her unnecessarily. Again, feeling sheepish.

I wondered how long it would take our extended circles of friends to find out about his untimely demise (assuming he'd been mugged, in a car accident, or whatever). Would they find out on Facebook? How awful. Where would we have the funeral? I know he doesn't want to have a military funeral. The squadron will suffer with losing another member-- we went to a memorial service for one of Sean's peers just last month, a suicide. At least I have a black maternity dress. I don't want to have this baby by myself!! I really don't want to be without him! I'll raise a fatherless child! Will someone marry me someday? How will I get through the grief? Should I stay in Colorado? Move back to California? Get a job? Sell the house, pay off the house? Who do I ask for help with those decisions, since Sean is my best friend and co-decision-maker?

By 8:30, I was tired of wandering around the house with my thoughts, unsettled. I had the cell phone in hand, literally about to call, when the front door opened and in walked my husband, in his flightsuit, backpack on, perfectly fine. He was a little surprised when I walked over, clung to him and burst into tears. I wouldn't say I was hysterical, but I was definitely shaken. I knew, even at that time, that I was probably over-reacting, and he'd have every reason to wonder why I was crying so hard. Good morning to you, too? I wasn't mad at him, just torn up at the thought of losing him. He held me and shushed me and was very patient. (Can I blame pregnancy hormones on this?)

Turns out, he had decided to take care of some paperwork after his shift ended, and it took awhile. But he was fine, and it hadn't occurred to him to call and let me know he was staying later-- didn't occur to him his wife would let her worries explode and rob her of peace as the minutes crept by. He was very apologetic, had no idea it would be so traumatic for me, and we've established that he'll try to call if his schedule changes, and I'll choose not to worry. :)

This whole incident is a great example of NOT trusting God, NOT taking captive my thoughts. I was trying to pray, kinda sorta, but still didn't "think on what is true." I wasn't exactly successful at banishing the scary thoughts I was having. Absolutely nothing bad happened, but I was antsy and tense, and I hated not knowing.

That's what faith is for: trusting something you can't see, choosing to believe it's sturdy enough to bear the burden of your trust. And that's our struggle, having an incomplete picture, always incomplete, with facts and insights missing, though we trust they are there. We trust there is someone bigger, wiser, more powerful than we are who is not only powerful, but good and perfect and capable of bringing about the absolute best outcome. "Best" doesn't mean the same thing to us as it does to God, because we wonder how suffering could ever be good, but we can know He will work all things for good.

Hopefully my little story is entertaining, but more importantly, I hope it's an encouragement to trust God. Even when we don't know the details. Especially when we don't know the details. 'Cause you know what? Even if something bad had happened to Sean, it would be okay. God would sustain me, and everyone else who would grieve. God could even bring good out of it, somehow, in that crazy way of His. We do have hope for the future, not only hope that we will see Sean again, but hope that there is life beyond this one! If we have hope in Christ, we have the certainty of being forgiven, of being accepted by God not on merit of our good deeds, but because the blood of Christ covers us. We don't have to pin all our happiness on an earthly life, nor should we. It's not about our efforts of being good, earning love, or pleasing people. It's not even about being married for a lifetime-- as much as I do want to have many, many years together with my sweet love. Even a lifetime is a limited quantity of time, versus eternity, which is, well, eternal.

Anyway, it's too late to remain coherent, so I will end here, for now. Hopefully next time something like this happens, I'll remember this whole episode and choose a different response when bombarded with irrational fears. :)