Saying Goodbye
Russell and I have had some pretty hard days in our 22 years together. When we first met and fell in love, we endured much pain from those who considered me a bad choice of bride for him; even resulting in the family vicar refusing to marry us. We’ve experienced the agony of sudden separation at the hands of airport immigration officials, ending up 6,000 miles apart. We missed our wedding day. We’ve lost a baby. We’ve lived with parents. We’ve lost dear friends who’ve turned against us. We’ve stepped off a corporate ladder, going from plenty to barely enough; and stepped off the housing ladder, ruining our chances of ever owning a home again. We’ve ministered to countless broken people in many varied situations. We’ve been homeless and had to live in our friends’ basement with our two children. We’ve endured the disapproval, distrust, lecturing and anger of many who disagreed with things we’ve done. We’ve raised two daughters nearly to adulthood, and shared many laughs and many tears in the process. We’ve taken mindless jobs and weathered the tedium of normality. We’ve lost jobs and wondered where our next rent payment would come from. We’ve forgiven large financial debts and even given up our right to a family inheritance. You might think nothing would be difficult after all that.
This morning, however, when we drove silently to the train station and waved goodbye to each other in the chill of early dawn, I thought my heart would break. I’m not sure when we will see each other again. I don’t know when we will get to live together again. Russell is reporting to HMS Sultan in Portsmouth at 13.30hrs today (about 18 minutes from now) to begin his training as a Chaplain in the Royal Navy. It is a comfort to know that countless other husbands, wives, lovers and friends have endured this kind of unknown before us. Our two girls and I will remain here, at the other end of the country, until his training is complete and he receives his first posting; which could take about four months. After that, we still don’t know how often we will see him.
It isn’t as though we’ve never been apart before. Russell used to travel regularly to China and to Europe for business. We lived apart while he was in Bible College for seven months, and only saw each other on weekends. One lesson I learned during this time was that marrying a husband doesn’t automatically give me the right to live with him. As a follower of Jesus Christ, I give up all my rights. Everything I have is a privilege, not a right. If I get to live with my husband, that is a privilege. During our time spent apart, I learned to appreciate everything in a new way; and I’m thankful for that.
Some people have, understandably, questioned Russell’s motives in making so drastic a move which has such a great cost to his marriage and family. I know they love us, but sometimes I wonder if they would question us as much if we got a large loan to buy a new car. Going into debt to get new things or going on expensive holidays are, for many, just examples of normal life. But it seems like the decision to obey God and listen to Him first, especially when that means giving things up or following Him into something unusual, is often a point of great contention. We’ve always tried to make sure our motives are never based on just ‘what makes sense’ or what matches the status quo—but on what we believe God is asking us to do.
Before he ever married me, Russell promised me one thing. He said that he would never put me first. He said that as a follower of Jesus, he would always put God before me and any children we might have. I agreed wholeheartedly with this, and promised to do the same. I can understand why someone who doesn’t know Jesus would find that odd, but it’s a no-brainer to us… Jesus comes first. It is wonderfully freeing to know that I’m not responsible for Russell’s ultimate happiness or fulfilment, nor he mine. We are free to enjoy each other without that impossible weight of responsibility. It also means that if God asks something which would require us to be parted, we cannot refuse. Russell does not belong to me first, he belongs to God first, and then to me.
I have known for many years that Russell’s heart is for soldiers. It isn’t hard to see. All you have to do is get him on the subject and two things happen to his eyes; they sparkle, then they fill with tears. As a younger man, he wanted to join up, but it seems that God prevented him. There has always been a pang of regret in him. There have been times in the past that he has looked into military life, particularly the Royal Marines, but for one reason or another, the door was always closed. Every time he tried, the door seemed to close more firmly. Finally, about 6 years ago, the door shut for the last time and he said goodbye to his dream. Then, a few months ago, something happened that neither of us ever expected… it began to open.
I won’t go into the details because I can’t; wives are hopeless at telling their husbands’ stories and vice-versa. Suffice it to say, he bumped into the right people at the right time on so many occasions that before we knew it, he was well on his way to joining up. He opted for the Royal Navy because what he really wanted was to be a Chaplain in the Commandos. He hates the thought of being on a ship. He is an outdoorsman through and through, so the Commandos seemed the logical choice. Two weeks before his final interview, however, the nail was put in that coffin very definitively one last time. He was gutted. It looks like he will be serving on the ships after all. But he has taken it as God’s leading; following his calling while still dying to his dream.
This morning when I dropped him off at the station, I didn’t see a man brimming with excitement at fulfilling a lifelong dream, I saw a man laying his life on the altar again. He is giving up the comforts of home, wife, family and friends—as well as a lifestyle of climbing, hunting, dog-training and endless walks and jaunts through England’s beautiful countryside—in order to follow the uncomfortable call of God upon his life. It makes my sacrifice of him seem small.
Every follower of Jesus belongs to Him first, and therefore to His work in the world. Our world is full of broken and hurting people and we are charged with taking His love and rescue to them. The people Russell meets will have first call on his life. Their need of him is greater than mine. I am left with a Saviour’s love and comfort; a Saviour those men have probably never heard of. If you were to ask Russell why he is going he would say with the apostle Paul, “The love of Christ constrains me.”
One of his favourite sayings comes from a sermon by Paris Reidhead. He quotes two young Moravian men who sold themselves into a lifetime of slavery on an Island where 3000 African slaves worked for an owner who had barred access to Christian missionaries. As those two men sailed away on the ship which would take them to their life of bondage and servitude, they cried out to their weeping families, “May the Lamb that was slain receive the reward of His suffering.”
Those two men gave their up their lives of freedom to share with those slaves the love, forgiveness and hope that Jesus Christ offers. Christ, the Lamb, paid for our ultimate, eternal freedom when he suffered and died on the cross. All who give their lives to Him become His reward, and He becomes theirs. This is why we give Jesus everything, and this is why Russell has become a Chaplain in the Royal Navy: because the world needs to know Jesus and the life He offers. I will miss Russell every day, but I rejoice that I have a husband like him, who will always put God before me.
