what a difference!

I meandered the ballroom at an Officer's Club on base last Wednesday night, trying to wait patiently for my husband, who, unbeknownst to me, was also wandering around trying to locate his phone-less wife. I had left my phone with the kids at home, as I often do when mom and dad go out. Why do I always get left alone? I thought. Everyone looks old. I dismissed the plaguing thoughts, understanding what the event was for and why I was there. 

Tired of being idle, I naturally picked up a conversation with a woman standing in line to get drinks. At check-in, we were all given stubs to redeem for beverages. Soon enough, my husband and I spotted one another, and he relayed how he'd been circling, looking for me. We moved to a finely set table with extra seats, only to discover no one else had brought their wives for dinner. It would be a three-course meal, and the host welcomed all to what he expected to be a three-hour evening. Instead of shrinking internally with discomfort, I chose to own my position and spot at the table. 

Later, between speeches and presentations, my thoughtful husband asked if I remembered that this was the same place we had been fourteen years ago for an Air Force Ball. I couldn't believe it. I looked around and remembered with stunning clarity. The dark blue carpeted floor and the small powder room in the ladies' restroom were still just as outdated as they had been back then. It was the much-anticipated D.C. Ball that the two of us had flown out for, leaving our only son with my parents in Denver. I had primed, groomed, and pampered for the occasion. I had chosen to wear a soft white gown, a color that felt appropriate for the location, and three-inch strappy heels. Active duty members were handsomely outfitted in their mess dress. 

Back then, I had quickly become uncomfortable, and like a fish out of water, I wandered around during the long night of festivities, embarrassed, and wishing for a good friend. There were plenty of ladies, but I wasn't able to make good connections. Capt. Dea engaged in jovial conversation with many others he'd worked with, as was natural to him. We did not have smartphones in 2011, so scrolling as a distraction was not a thing either. I had frequented the restroom, wishing to hide away, but it was awkward with others coming and going, so I endured at our table, biding the time till we could leave. 

The stark difference between who I was as a younger spouse and today, not merely older, but confident and sure of herself, was enough to catch me breathing a deep sigh of thanksgiving. I owe it to the Lord who has planted me and nurtured me beside my husband in this particular community. In my mind's eye, I am enthused to see the snapshot comparison of then and now. It is not just about being comfortable the longer I'm in this circle, as each event can vary greatly, nor is it about practicing to make perfect. It is all about growing daily and becoming who God intends for me to be. Fourteen years ahead, I hope the same can be said as I look back to even these days of great blessing. 

"Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for thy mercy, and for thy truth's sake."  Psalm 115:1