The Uniform

I simply love my man in uniform.  I love him. I respect his uniform. 

 

When my husband reminisces about his childhood, he tells stories of playing army with his friends. When other boys his age were shopping for the latest toys at the toy store, he was shopping for the ultimate army gear at Major Weatherby’s.  Anybody from South Central Kentucky remember that place?

 When Jeff and I met as teenagers, he often talked about joining the military.  After we married, he still talked about it.  When he finally decided to follow that calling, I said, “It’s about time!” 

 There’s something I need you to know about my husband.  He is a humble man, a man that cares for others.  He has this amazing personality that draws people to him.  I think he is pretty awesome. 

 Because of his love for others, I think God has called him to the right position, Chaplain in the US Army.  It is an amazing job.  When people first asked us about this job, the best way to explain it was by saying, “He is like a preacher for the Army.”  But honestly, it is so much more than that.  I see him as a friend to his fellow soldiers.  When a relative passes away, he stays with the soldier through the night.  When the soldier is hurting, brokenhearted, he spends his time listening, giving words of comfort and encouragement.  If he can’t help, he finds those that can.  He preaches God’s Word and has had the privilege of leading soldiers to Christ and then later performing their baptisms to show their obedience to Christ. Being a Chaplain is one of the many amazing jobs held by our soldiers. 

Regardless of position, rank, or branch of service, there is something about that uniform.  To me, it is almost sacred.  It takes a special person to honorably wear the uniform.

There are men and women who put on the uniform every day because they have earned the right to wear it.  They have worked hard to earn that right.  I am able to sit back as the wife of a soldier and simply see things from my perspective.  I could try to tell you what it takes for a man or woman to earn that right to call themselves United States Soldiers, but I can’t.  Not even from “knowing” what my husband has gone through.  There is a personal sacrifice they make that none of us could ever imagine.

The first time I saw my husband in uniform, I was so proud of him.  I felt like it was an amazing accomplishment.  Each time I see him in uniform, serving God and Country, I feel so blessed to have a man in my life that would follow God’s calling.  That isn’t always easy to do.

 

I do love the way my husband looks in his uniform, but again, I respect his uniform.  As I am doing laundry today, folding and putting away his things from three weeks of training at Ft. Dix, I am reminded of the sacrifices that soldiers make to be able to wear the uniform with pride. 

 I am bothered by the people who sport the uniform because they like the way it looks. I am bothered by the people who play in the uniform, pretending they are in a warzone.  I am bothered by the local organizations that dress their law enforcement officers in the uniform. I am bothered by the people who are in love with the uniform, not knowing what it ultimately takes to be able to wear it with honor.

It is the uniform of the United States Soldier.  We should respect it and those who wear it.