Just Winging It....

It was at about 6,000 feet that I frantically asked myself, "What in the world am I doing?!"

Zipped into a bubblegum pink jumpsuit, with oversized goggles suctioned to my face, I looked out the tiny window as we penetrated the thick cloud layer.

I never was a huge fan of heights.

Yet, here I was, straddling a narrow bench, my back harnessed to a stranger's stomach, pretending to smile adventurously as I attempted to suppress the feeling of impending death that was rather quickly working its way from the bowels of my stomach to my esophagus.

And we were quickly nearing our destination of 12,000 feet above solid ground.

My Dan is a great gift-giver.
While we were dating, he sent me a big package of things that go well together- milk and cookies, peanut butter and jelly, salt and pepper. Labeled "open last" was a picture of him and me, obviously the best pair of the bunch. Another package came my way for my birthday- full of all sorts of unique goodies like a foot massager, a princess tiara, a jar full of chocolate kisses, and a pack of little Army men attached to parachutes. Dan puts a lot of care and thought... and humor... into his gifts.

Humorous isn't exactly how I would describe his "pre-deployment" gift to me, though.

On our last Saturday together, as we lazed around the house, Dan nonchalantly suggested we start our day, as he had plans for us.

No, it wasn't a car...
or a puppy...
He was taking me

skydiving

I enjoy surprises.
I am afraid of heights.petrified.

At 12,000 feet, the door to the side of the plane was opened and we slid into place. I looked across the plane at the impish face that smiled excitedly at me. There was only one person in the world for whom I would ever consider jumping out of a plane; and there he was, perched on the edge of the plane, ready to catapult into the cloudy white abyss. I didn't even know til I watched the video footage later that that stinker backflipped out of the plane!

I was alone.
And it was my time to jump.

I swung my feet over the edge, trying desperately to do anything but think about the fact that God didn't create me with wings. I jammed my head back against my instructor's shoulder and started to rock.

3
2
1

and I rolled into a freefall


Being married to the military is like skydiving.

In a matter of seconds, everything comfortable about living on the ground-- gently-blowing leaves, laughing children, eating watermelon in the park, watching fireworks and catching lightning bugs, the smell of slightly-burnt popcorn-- is savagely ripped from under you... and you're tossed into the cloudy abyss of the UNKNOWN, armed solely with the comforting knowledge that if your first parachute malfunctions, you have a backup chute that should work more effectively.

I was convinced I would live and die in NJ, unless I married a missionary and moved to the thick jungles of Africa, where I would labor in our tree hut to translate the Bible into native tongues and die young of malaria or dysentary or an attack by rabid baboons....naturally. The idea of giving up my cozy predictable life for the nomadic wanderings of the military wife never once entered my mind... surprisingly. I liked life on the ground. I liked its bustle and activity. I liked looking UP at the clouds and daydreaming about their soft fluffiness. But LIVING in those clouds...well, I didn't actually think that would be so much fun.

Perhaps what really suprised me about skydiving, then, was how much fun it actually turned out to be. How many people get the chance to swim through a cloud?! Or gently float on the breeze, surveying the expansive horizon? I thought the distance from earth would make me sick, but it opened my eyes to a view of the world that I had never seen before. It was beautiful. It was enjoyable. It was adventurous. It actually wasn't so bad...!

As I slowly picked up my legs for landing, a blue seran-wrapped figure ran toward me.

"Are you ok?
 Did you like it?
Wasn't that AWESOME?!
Want to do it again?"

Before we left to head back for dinner, Dan pulled out another gift. This one wasn't quite as expensive or shocking. He had brought along his Airborne pin to give to me. We held our own private pinning ceremony, and he told me how proud he was of me. He really didn't know if I would be up for the skydiving adventure...

Well, he should have known when I agreed to marry him that I'm not exactly a normal or completely sane person...

...and that I'm kind of head-over-heels for him...

Those wings pretty much sum up our foreseeable future.

People have a lot of questions about where the Army will take us-
"When does Dan come home?"
"How long will you be in Texas?"
"Where will you move next?"
"When are you going to have kids?"
(and my personal favorite) "When does he have to go back to Afghanistan?"

To all of these questions, I simply respond, "I don't know..."

You see- Dan and I- we're airborne.
We've been pushed out of a plane and we're not sure when we'll hit the ground or where.
But we have our pins.
So, we don't worry about the altitude. the wind speed. the weather.
We just kind of...

WING IT

There are still days where I ask myself what in the world I'm doing..
like when half of my students call me "Miss Martin" and the other half call me "Mrs. Filcik"
or when I get a text that says, "Rocket attack. Be back in a second"
or when I try to figure out how in the world Mom and I are going to move all that furniture to Texas by ourselves

But then I remember my wings

I have a good 12,000 feet to fall before I hit some kind of ground.
but...
I'm thankful to be strapped to Someone Who knows what He's doing and doesn't need a "backup chute."
I'm thankful for the clouds and the breeze and the opportunity to see new places.
I'm thankful for my bubblegum jumpsuit and the supportive team that will cheer me on from back up in the plane and from back down on the ground.
And I'm thankful for that crazy blue seran-wrapped GIJoe waving excitedly up at me.
I promised to follow him in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, through question marks and "we'll cross that bridge when we get there"s.

So, Dan, to answer your questions-
Yes, I'm ok!
Yes, I liked it!
It WAS awesome!
And I WOULD do it again!

And, somehow, I have a feeling that when our crazy adventure with the Army comes to an end- in 5, 10, 20 years- and we finally hit the ground... I'll be pretty thankful that I followed you into that itty bitty Cessna, strapped on those dorky goggles, held your hand...

and JUMPED!