Beautifully Broken

belongings together in a U-Haul while also trying to squeeze in time with our families. I had a mixture of emotions as the big move approached. On one hand, I was excited about everything I had researched about Tacoma. It seemed so different from the South, with its big-city scenes, mild climate, and progressive views. On the other hand, I couldn’t help but picture myself living there during Josh’s deployment. How long would we have before he had to leave? What if I didn’t have any friends by then? I could feel myself dumping a lot of these feelings on Josh. If I had listened to the voice in my head, I would have acknowledged that my concerns were actually a backhanded way of blaming him for all my problems, but I just couldn’t hold back my attitude. I was afraid of acting like I was okay with moving, because then Josh might think he could sign up for another five years after this deployment. Amid my solemn inner soliloquy, I sat on the front porch of Josh’s home in Glencoe before our big move and started reading through Proverbs. God’s Word both offended me and convicted me in Proverbs 21–27 as it characterized the “quarrelsome wife.” I was reading it is “Better to live on the corner of a roof than to share a house with a quarrelsome wife” (21:9), and it is “Better to live in the desert than with a quarrelsome and nagging wife” (21:19). And then came this: “A quarrelsome wife is like the dripping of a leaky roof in a rainstorm” (27:15). My heart sank. How much time had I spent making sure Josh knew how inconvenienced I was? I just felt stupid. I had complained about leaving family, friends, and familiarity as if Josh were not leaving the exact same things. Except here’s one extra point for Josh: He gets to train around the clock with no time off to get ready to go to a war zone from which he may not return. Paige, Paige, Paige, when was life ever all about you? Again, I caught myself being double-minded toward Josh—proud of him one minute, guilting him the next. I would encourage him to work hard for promotions and leadership roles, and then complain about the responsibilities that came with them. I chose to tell him that I was supportive of his career and then blame him for delaying mine.

Since being quarrelsome couldn’t change my situation, I decided to change my mind. I decided that this move and everything after would be our adventure, a chance for us to truly figure out who we wanted to be without the familiarity of life in North Alabama. Job 42:2 became our mantra verse for this move across the nation: “I know you can do everything. You make plans, and nothing can change or stop them” (ERV). I turned twenty-three on August 5, 2011. On August 10, we hit the road for the Pacific Northwest. Had I known what all was in store for us as we pulled our U-Haul across the United States to our new home, I might have backtracked into my old way of thinking. But I not only leaned on Job 42:2, I agreed to it. I decided to be more flexible and encouraging by first acknowledging that I wasn’t in control. I could have never known how badly I needed this training.

JOSH

The length of my surgeries began to taper off and my daily schedule became more predictable. We knew surgeries would be Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and Tuesday and Thursday would be spent recovering and going to physical therapy. I spent the weekend sobering up from anesthesia and watching sports. The men on my floor, my fellow amputees, were always rotating in and out of my room, or I theirs. The room three doors down housed a single amputee whose wife was pregnant. After rolling by our room for a few consecutive weeks, Jenn Mullee and Sergeant Andrew (Drew) Mullee introduced themselves when Drew poked his head in our door and said, “Hey, you like college football?” It took about thirty seconds for a conversation about Ohio State versus Auburn University to begin. I was thrilled. Another football fan! Jenn and Paige hit it off, and Drew and I became absorbed by all things sports. We immediately turned on the TV to begin critiquing events in the London Olympics when I heard Paige asking, “When is the baby due?” I tore my eyes from the game and wondered the same thing. Paige and I had always wanted children, but I couldn’t imagine welcoming one into this situation. I was curious if Drew would actually be well enough to take care of a new baby by the time it was born. Jenn explained that she had about sixteen weeks to go and planned to have the baby at Walter Reed. Whoa, I thought. Can you do that here? What did I know? I had only been out of the room to go to surgery or PT or grab snacks since we had gone out to dinner at the Italian place, so I had not seen any other parts of the hospital. Jenn, however, did not seem fazed explaining her plan. She talked about her pregnancy with excitement and had a lot of confidence in Drew’s recovery. The four of us quickly became friends. And again, amputee etiquette did not disappoint. A few days later, Paige went down the hall to take them some cookies. But I noticed that she came back with the cookies, so I asked, “Were they not in their room?” Paige said, “Oh, they were. Jenn just said she needs a second to help get shrapnel out of Drew’s leg.”

A few days after meeting Jenn and Drew, there was a light knock on our door, and an unfamiliar voice said, “Hey, would you guys like some cupcakes?” In rolls a guy in a power wheelchair with a blond