Yesterday I was blessed with the opportunity to go to a local spa with four other wounded warrior wives. For eight hours I was out of the house, away from my husband, and away from my kids. I love my family and every minute that I have with them, but eight hours on my own was definitely a treat.
While I enjoyed my massage and my facial, I enjoyed hanging out with the other wives more than anything. My massage was scheduled an hour later than everyone else’s, yet these ladies (2 who I just met that day) waited until I was done to invite me to join them for lunch. None of us could get enough of the girl talk. It didn’t matter that we didn’t know each other before we entered that spa. We were military wives. That made us family. Even better- we were wounded warrior wives. That made us a family in a rare breed of military wives.
The military provides such a sense of community, no matter where you are. As we sat at the table of a nearby restaurant, I looked around at the four ladies with me and thanked God for the bond that we shared. We drove in from all regions of the metro area. We brought with us different stories, different struggles, different strategies. We had unique personalities, unique positions, unique passions. But we shared the same heart for our husbands, the same hunger for harmony in our homes, the same hope for healing. We are sisters.
This sense of community is not unique to the five of us that spent a day together at the spa. It is felt in restaurants and churches and living rooms across the world on military bases and in civilian areas, too. It’s lived out in chow halls and barracks and offices. It’s recognized in hangers and ships and MRAPs on the battlefield.
It’s community. It’s family. It’s respect and loyalty and devotion.
It’s the military. It’s who we are. It’s how we’re blessed.