That’s exactly how I felt. Dedicating our lives to God had already served us well, but like Paul said, I couldn’t carry it out in this situation. I felt like a prisoner to my hurt and my assumption that nothing would ever change. Thankfully, Paul keeps writing: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death” (Rom. 8:1–2). I wanted to live for God, but it was like every choice I made for good became distracted by signs claiming a different way was easier, shorter, more convenient, or not what I wanted. I could reasonably cut myself slack for being truly ignorant to the consequences of us both working so hard. I certainly felt myself slipping in the two years we had been away from the hospital, but I could have never imagined we would have ended up more confused and afraid than we did the day Josh was injured. The sin I was walking in was bigger than me because I had not walked that far in my faith journey yet, so until I knew what to do, I was going to focus on what God had done.
Even though Josh and I were on a trip to “heal our patriots,” we couldn’t help but do what we normally do and button up our problems for the sake of others. We met our travel liaisons and chaplains with all smiles, even though we were going on this trip to explore the reasons why we faked it. Other couples, however, came in with obvious issues. Some were not even speaking to each other. I made a mental note to try to stay out of their way, remembering that Josh and I were only about two weeks down the road from them. On the bus ride from the Anchorage airport to the airfield to our private plane, we reminded each other what we were there for. Even if a touchy subject came up, we wouldn’t hold back. We all boarded the twelve-passenger prop plane and headed to Lake Clark. The view on the way in was breathtaking. The plane flew through a split in the mountain ranges that followed the estuaries that flowed from Lake Clark. We were greeted by the entire town when we landed. Every man, woman, child, and probably pet was there, waving American flags and yelling, “Welcome to Alaska! Thank you for your service!” Our chaplains shuffled us through the spirit line and escorted each couple to their own one-bedroom cabin. On-site was also a beautiful one-room chapel, a dining hall, a raft house for fishing needs, and a lodge, the largest building, which was able to hold only about thirty-five people. We received our itinerary, and we had our first group session that night.
JOSH
We filed into the chapel and sat in seats arranged in a circle. Our leaders, former military chaplains and their wives, came in and introduced themselves and began talking to us about the mission of Operation Heal Our Patriots. Their goal was to take this week secluded from the rest of the world and bring some very common issues to the table and find ways to address them by putting God in the center. We couldn’t even be tempted with Wi-Fi or cell service—there was none. There was one landline phone that we could use if needed. Personally, I was thankful for an excuse to completely unplug so I wouldn’t be tempted to check on things at work. I was committed to whatever these chaplains had to offer. They seem nice enough, I thought. Hopefully we can get to know them one-on-one, because our issues don’t fall under “common” problems. Our session began with humorous anecdotes about spouses that everyone could relate to, like how they squirt their toothpaste or what they consider “clean.” I glanced at Paige, wondering if she knew how much I hated that we have decorative towels and a regular towel in all of our bathrooms.
Then the conversation got real. I went from thinking these were nice people leading a Sunday school lesson to thinking, Are you spying on us? Even just surveying the room after “raise your hand if this applies to you” questions made everyone alarmingly paranoid. Of the ten participating couples in the room, almost all of us would awkwardly raise our hands in response to “How many of you feel like your spouse has no idea what embarrasses you?” or “How many of you choose to go in another room and hang out simply because the other person isn’t in it?” We all looked around at each other realizing that first, these chaplains knew what they were doing, and second, we were a lot more normal than we thought.
Every day we went to a session where we learned about each other’s personalities, love languages, and needs. We were given opportunities to have one-on-one counseling on the ugly parts of our relationship. The chaplains responded with a smile and a story of that same thing happening to them. Paige and I both felt accepted and embraced by these leaders. After we dumped all of our feelings on someone else, we got to go fishing! It was such a brilliant setup. Every couple talked and unpacked issues, and then sat on the edge of a lake, staring at a mountain range with nothing but the peaceful Alaskan wilderness in the background. After spending a few hours reflecting, we came back for another session, ready to bring more to the table. We wrapped up the day with an
