Tuesday, February 22, 2011

A Blessed Encounter as a Military Family Life Consultant


It was just after noon on Sunday and we were packing up at the end of an “On-Demand” weekend for service members and their families. I decided to speak to some vendors across from our table and, as I stepped over, I noticed an attractive, “fiftyish” woman standing there, as if waiting for someone. I greeted her with my usual opening, “Hello, how’s it going?” She responded, “Well, not so good. I have had a radical mastectomy.” I waited for a moment before asking, “Shall we talk?” She nodded, and then we found a vacant office.

During the visit, she told me that her surgery took place while her husband was deployed, about how hard it was without him, and of her chances of surviving—20%. Her husband has returned from action, thank goodness, and is supremely supportive. We had talked for a good forty five minutes, when I asked “Do you get weary of people telling you how brave you are? Maybe you’re tired of being brave,” She answered, “No it helps to hear it.”

As she wept quietly I took her hands in mine and waited. As we left the room, she said, “I almost approached you the last time we were at one of these weekends, but backed out.”

How was it that we met? Why did I notice her standing there?

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

A Meaning Encounter with an army wife

A Blessed Encounter as a Military Family Life Consultant

It was just after noon on Sunday and we were packing up at the end of an “On-Demand” weekend for service members and their families.I decided to speak to some vendors across from our table and, as I stepped over, I noticed an attractive, “fiftyish” woman standing there. I greeted her with my usual opening, “Hello, how’s it going?” She responded, “Well, not so good. I have had a radical mastectomy.” I waited for a moment before asking, “Shall we talk?” She nodded; then we found a vacant office.During the visit, she told me that her surgery had taken place while her husband was deployed, about how hard it was without him, and of her chances of surviving—20%. Her husband has returned from action, thank goodness, and is supremely supportive. We had talked for a good forty five minutes when I asked, “Do you get weary of people telling you how brave you are? Maybe you’re tired of being brave.” She answered, “No it helps to hear it.”As she wept quietly I took her hands in mine and waited. As we left the room, she said, “I almost approached you the last time we were at one of these weekends, but backed out."How was it that we met? Why did I notice her standing there?