By Jennifer Yan
My husband flies C-130's. I don't presume to know all there is to know about his airplane nor his profession in the Air Force. All I know is that the type of plane he flies are big and that they can carry big cargo in it.
Another thing that I know about his airplane is that they break a lot. Why do they break? I dunno. Maybe they break because they're old and that's what happens when things get old. But, I do know that when they do break, my husband's return home is delayed. When they break in the middle of nowhere it's not so much fun but sometimes they break in a place where you and I dream of going on a vacation. That's when the lines begin to blur and you find yourself asking should I be jealous that he's elephant riding and enjoying the ocean breeze? Or should I feel sorry for him because he's sleeping in an empty hotel room longing to be with me?
I have (at times) asked my husband why he wants to fly such an old and unreliable airplane. Aren't you scared every time you fly it? What if it craps out over the middle of the ocean? Or don't you get frustrated when you plan for a 3 day trip and that same trip turns into a 10 day trip because the stupid plane breaks? On and on, I have repeatedly asked questions such as these.
I, too, am a lot like my husband's plane. Old (and prone to breaks). The only difference is that I just want to be tossed into the junkyard. I don't find myself worth fixing and keeping up in the air.
And for the first time in my life, I found myself broken (and divorced) in a place I had never wanted to be. At first, I tried to mask my pain and was often very successful at it. Afterall, I had many years of practice hiding what was really going on underneath the surface of my life.
And then there was a lot of pain, pain that I tried to numb and/or sleep away. The problem with pain though is that it keeps coming back until you can pinpoint its source. And once you have figured out the root cause, you then have to decide whether or not you want to remove it and/or live with it.
And emotionally that's where I have been for the last year and a half. In my own strength, I just wanted to drown in my pain and rust away at the junkyard. I had flown some great missions in my life and now my time was finished. I could no longer be depended upon. I was now unreliable and no longer prone to just breaks but now I was completely broken and unflyable (is that a word?).
This emotional turmoil manifested itself physically too. 20+pounds of weight, my first grey hair with a few added wrinkles on to my face.
Spiritually, I was emaciated. All that was left was some skin and bones. N-O-T-H-I-N-G about me was pretty.
God in His good grace does not leave us where we are and He certainly does not leave us where we deserve to be. He has picked me up, has wiped the mud off of my face and has begun to fix the broken pieces of my life.
I wish that I could say that part of my healing process has been due to the unconditional love and support of family and friends. But sadly, that has not entirely been the case. In my greatest time of need, I was afflicted, judged and abandoned. Those that were closest to me, hurt me the most and had broken what little I had left to break. (I'm sorry mom for thinking you would love me any less. I should have known that a mother would always be their for their child. I wish I had gone to talk to you in the very beginning)
And this is where you find me today, broken in a place I don't want to be. Maintenance (the Lord) wanted to fix the broken airplane (me). I just couldn't see my worth nor my beauty until I could come to a place of repentance and a desire to live and worship again.
I no longer have to wonder why my husband would want to fly such an old and unreliable plane that tends to break because the answer is simple. He sees the plane's beauty and her worth.
But more importantly, he loves her. That's why he does what he does.
(This was my first song of prayerful worship to my Father. No pictures, no videos. Only words. Enjoy!)
Friday, September 16, 2011
By Jennifer Yan