When you’re married to a veteran, days like Remembrance Day and Veterans Day are often accompanied by mixed emotions as they bring up memories from that season of life. One memory that often comes to mind is the phone call I received five years ago that changed our lives forever. On that day, Chris’ unit was training in a remote area. I had just put the kids to bed when my phone rang. I figured it was Chris calling to say goodnight, but an unfamiliar voice was on the other end. Something had happened. Chris was unconscious. I could hear sirens in the background. I fell to my knees on the floor. Shaking, I texted a friend, asking her to pray.

While I thank God that my worst fears were not realised, I was still caught off guard by Chris’ condition when he came home from the hospital. He was bedbound, unable to walk, eat, or do much of anything without assistance. To say I was overwhelmed is an understatement. We had recently moved across the country with our baby and 4 year old. We had no family in the area. Our house was under renovation and half of our things were still in boxes. Determined to expedite his recovery, I started researching the best ways to help him. I assumed all would be well in time.

As we discovered over the next six months, all would not be well. Despite extensive rehabilitation, little measurable progress was made. I could tell he was discouraged by his extremely slow recovery, but the plan was to stay the course and return to duty. The day before Thanksgiving, the medical group from his unit came to our house to update us on his case. I will never forget sitting in our living room, listening to them tell Chris that they had decided to start the disability evaluation process which signaled the end of his career. I immediately started crying. We were shocked; just weeks prior, one of his senior leaders had promised to support and stand by him. The next day we had plans to celebrate Thanksgiving with friends. We went through the motions of the day but I know we both felt numb inside.

Things went from bad to worse as Chris lost his motivation to recover. I could tell he felt abandoned by his unit, many of whom had been trusted friends. He had given the military 14 years of his life and it was suddenly done with him. We began the disability evaluation process, and continued to see small steps and setbacks in recovery. We prepared to sell our house and move again, uncertain of what the future would hold for us. I had a feeling deep down that everything would somehow be ok in the end, though at the time I couldn’t see a way through.

We continued to focus on Chris’ recovery and jump through all of the military’s hoops, culminating in his medical retirement 21 months after his injury. We finally had a resolution, but not a reason. I kept wondering why he was injured, and why he wasn’t healed. I had prayed for his recovery so many times. I recounted the events of that day over and over in my head, wondering if we could have done anything to change the outcome.

To tell the rest of the story, we have to go back in time a bit. This was not the first injury Chris had sustained in the military. In 2015, Chris suffered an injury that paralysed his left arm. We didn’t know if it was temporary or permanent. Thankfully, after several distressing weeks, the paralysis resolved. The following year, he had another injury with a potentially life-altering result. Again, he improved and it turned out fine. In 2017 he was in the hospital recovering once more. It seemed every year he was dealing with a serious health issue; I began to wonder why these things kept happening to him.

Later in 2017 we were preparing to move for a new assignment. Two days before we left, we went to visit a friend in the hospital. He was our church home group leader, and he had suffered a life-threatening brain injury while hiking in the mountains. During our visit, another woman from our home group also came to see him. I didn’t remember the conversation I had with her until a few years after Chris’ injury. I said, “We keep having all of these health scares with Chris. Everything always turns out ok, but I feel like God’s preparing us for a big test.”

I forgot that conversation for a long time. It wasn’t until after Chris’ retirement that I remembered those words I had said, and it felt like a missing puzzle piece fell into place. I realised that his injury wasn’t anything we could have changed or prevented, but something that was always part of God’s plan. And I felt so grateful that God had given us those smaller tests along the way to prepare us. I had often had a feeling that everything would be ok in the end somehow, despite the difficult circumstances we were facing. I finally understood that God had been growing our faith during those previous trials.

People that knew what was going on kept telling me how strong I was and how well I was handling everything. Inside I didn’t feel like I was handling everything well at all. Many days, I thought I would cry or fall apart any second. I felt like I was drowning and just trying to keep my head above the waves. I remember telling Chris through tears that I couldn’t handle anything else. I was not strong. But in my weakness HE was strong. Every time I thought something would break me, He held me together.

While it was undoubtedly the hardest season of life we have gone through together, I am grateful for the experience and how it shaped us. It has given us invaluable perspective. It strengthened us as individuals and as a couple. And I’m grateful for the past hardships that prepared us. How kind and gracious of God to give us these opportunities to grow in faith. And how humbling that our lives can be a reflection of his goodness.

Our story doesn’t stop there though. Chris continues to deal with effects from his injury and likely will the rest of his life. For a long time, I couldn’t imagine how our life would ever be the same. What I didn’t expect was that it would actually be better. When we had to give up those things we thought were so important – the exciting career, the nice house, the life plan – it opened our eyes to see what was actually important. We are so fortunate to have the life that we do, and it would not have been possible without all of the trials that we faced. Those hard things didn’t happen TO us. They happened FOR us. We count it all joy, knowing that the testing of our faith produces steadfastness, and suffering leads to perseverance. God has orchestrated our story in ways we couldn’t imagine.

I know I am just one of many military spouses who’ve received that dreaded phone call. But how fortunate I am that my husband is alive, unlike so many service members that have made the ultimate sacrifice. I am deeply aware that so many other families have lost and grieved so much more. Their loss and sorrow is not forgotten or taken for granted. On 11 November, and always, I am grateful for those individuals who were and are willing to give up their lives for others. Greater love hath no man than this.

– Megan