A Smooth Sea Never Made a Skilled Sailor

As we launch into the Christmas Season bursting with Black Friday and Cyber Monday sales, we often hear words like “Remember the Reason for the Season.” A few weeks ago, my daughter, Laura, as she said, “felt like writing,” sent me what she had been silently wrestling with, the struggle within. With her permission, I’m passing this along to you hoping it will encourage, strengthen, and help you to “tighten your bootstraps” as we trudge along together and…remember.

Merry Christmas everyone.

With love,
Kimberly

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A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

Nearly two years ago, with tear-stained cheeks, I kissed my husband goodbye at the Nashville International Airport, sending him off to boot camp with a contract to begin Navy Seal training upon boot camp completion. In short, that meant two months of limited communication and at least six months of here and there visits, and a lifetime of uncertainty.

I strapped the mantra “A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor” to my chest and moved forward.

My husband and I said we never wanted a “normal” life. We thought nine to five jobs behind a desk for the rest of our lives weren’t super appealing. (I don’t mind it so much, as long as I feel I am doing meaningful work.) Andrew dreamed of militarily doing good abroad while I dreamed of one day doing mission work overseas. We had no idea how those plans would work together, but we believed if the Lord willed it, and if we walked, so it would be done. I still believe that.

So when the first trial of Andy getting a hernia struck right after boot camp, delaying his training and further delaying our reunion of living together again, I was fine. A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor. Ok God, first hiccup. This stinks. But we’ll be fine.

Following delay after delay, nearly a year went by before Andy left for Seal training. During that year, he had to live on base near Chicago. I had to remain in Tennessee. A year apart. A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

When the second hiccup of Andy spraining his ankle during Seal training in Coronado hit, I cried a little because I figured that meant his training would be delayed even more and it would be longer till I could live with him. (Wives aren’t supposed to move out to California until a certain point of training). But I was fine. A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor. He decided to push through the pain and continue training. No setback. Okay.

Then I got a phone call. Andrew rang the infamous bell signaling his time trying to be a Seal was over. I was in shock. We had spent four years preparing for this journey. We spent countless hours in the YMCA pool swimming, countless hours talking about our future and how we would never let this break our marriage, countless hours wondering how kids and mission work would fit into the mix.

Why did he ring the bell? The Lord gives and takes away, right? Andy felt the Lord telling him it was time to give back his dream because He had a bigger dream for Andy. “I want to start a family, and this life will keep me from you and our children.” Whoa. When we got married, Andy and I said we wanted to wait at least five years till children. We were about to reach our three-year anniversary.

The life of possibly being a Navy Seal wife was over. While the uncertainty of that life ended, new uncertainty of what was next began. A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

Shortly after Andy rang the bell, he received orders to begin training as a Rescue Swimmer in Pensacola, Florida. Three weeks later, I said goodbye to a job in Nashville that I loved (which would’ve happened eventually anyway), and we moved. I thought I was going to be moving to California. Florida won’t be so bad. We can do this. A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

One short month and a half after moving to Florida, I sat staring at a positive pregnancy test. *Blink Blink. Blink Blink.* So this is happening. God wasn’t kidding when He said He had a new dream for Andy.

With Andy still having student status in the military, he was supposed to live in the barracks. The military allows for some exception to the rule by offering “Brown Bag Status” where married guys can live at home with their spouses. The first time Andy applied — denied. We had been married three years by this point and were both closer to 30 than 20, oh and had a baby on the way. The military told us Andy didn’t need to live with me because I wasn’t having pregnancy complications. A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

Six months later, Andy’s request to live at home was granted.

Two months later… and two months before my due date… Andy was given the opportunity to separate from the Navy. After a great deal of prayer, he took it.

So one year, eight months after this journey began, the military lifestyle as I knew it was over. It was a year and eight months of last-minute changes, uncertainty, difficulty, a great deal of time apart, and rough seas. A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

So you’re caught up. This is the stage of life we are currently living. And this is where my mantra (you know the smooth seas one) has failed me. I’m not worried about the need to find another job. I’m not even insanely worried that I now need to find a new doctor and new hospital now one month before my due date because our insurance just switched. But my rough seas have begun to engulf me. But why? We have already faced so much. What truly is bothering me about this?

Turns out, I’ve come to love the rough seas. I never wanted a normal life. I like the uncertainty, the excitement of military life. I like not knowing where I’ll live next year. It’s fun! I like meeting new people and being in the mission field of Navy wives. I love having Andy’s Navy buddies over for dinner and bantering back and forth. The idea of deployment wasn’t thaaaaat bad. (I was probably in denial.) The only part I didn’t love was the idea of constantly having to job search myself. I love working and have been blessed with freelance gigs since leaving Nashville. But let’s face it, trying to find a job when you’re moving every year on the year, would be tough. But again, a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

So as Andy job searches, and it becomes more apparent that we may have a “normal” life for the foreseeable future, I am terrified. Where is the fun in that??? I wanted to move coast to coast or possibly abroad while supporting my husband, having kids, and continuing to work myself.

I have grown closer to the Lord the past two years than ever as I have relied on him to get us through every twist and turn. But this twist, made my faith rock. What began as deep faith that the Lord would provide amidst the rough seas, became an idol for me. I started to love the sea more than the Lord.

But if I really take a moment to look back over the past year, I am reminded the Lord gives and takes away, and our best laid out plans, can change with the ring of a bell, with the positive sign on a pregnancy stick, with the rules of your boss, or the whisper of the Lord’s calling.

Who knows what’s ahead of me, what adventure lies ahead. If the Lord is calling me to rough seas, I want to be there. And if that means we will be working a more nine to five job for the foreseeable future because that’s where the Lord wants us, then that’s where I want to be. Because the roughest seas I’ve ever experienced were the seas the Lord didn’t call me; it’s the seas I ventured out into on my own. And those seas weren’t fun; they weren’t exciting. They were lonely and painful.

So if the Lord is calling you to rough seas, walk with your head above the waves. If the Lord is calling you to a situation that doesn’t seem appealing, walk with your head above those waves. Even strap on the mantra “A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.” Just don’t make it an idol.

“Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the waters, wherever you would call me.” -Hillsong United, Oceans