Faith While They're Away: A Daily Devotional for Military Families

The psalm gives us a place to stand: God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help. Not a distant idea. Not a reward for having the perfect attitude. He is present right here, in the waiting room, the empty driveway, the first night alone, and the unanswered message. You don’t have to solve the whole deployment today; you only have to bring today honestly to God.

That can be a relief. You don’t need a detailed plan for every missed birthday, late-night worry, or change in communication. You don’t need to know exactly how you’ll handle the next several months. Today may simply require making dinner, helping with homework, feeding the dog, or getting through the evening without hearing your loved one’s key in the lock. God meets you in those plain tasks.

Naming your emotions is one way of opening the door to His presence. Try saying, “God, I’m sad.” Or, “I’m angry that this is happening.” Maybe the truest sentence is, “I’m grateful for their calling, but I hate this separation.” Prayer doesn’t require you to edit yourself first. The Lord already knows what’s underneath the words. Honesty isn’t disrespectful; it’s relationship.

The uncertainty may also bring practical concerns. When will communication be possible? How will decisions be made? What if plans change? Military families know that “we’ll see” can be a real answer, even when it’s hard to hear. Waiting often means holding questions without immediate answers. Faith doesn’t turn uncertainty into certainty. It reminds us that uncertainty is not the same as being abandoned.

If children are part of your home, they may express the goodbye through behavior rather than words. A child may become clingy, quiet, restless, or suddenly upset about bedtime. You don’t have to offer a polished explanation. “We miss them, and God is with us while we wait” may be enough. A simple bedtime prayer can give shape to feelings that are too big to explain.

And if you’re alone in the house, the silence may feel especially loud. You might keep checking your phone or listening for sounds that aren’t there. Instead of judging yourself, gently notice what’s happening. “This is the first evening, and it hurts.” Then add the truth from the psalm: “God is my refuge and strength right now.” That small movement - from naming the pain to inviting God into it - is a faithful beginning.

Practice for Today

1. Name the first-day emotions without correcting them. Set a timer for five minutes. Sit somewhere quiet, place both feet on the floor, and write three sentences beginning with “Right now I feel…” Let the sentences be specific: “I feel lonely because the house is quiet,” “I feel proud and scared,” or “I feel relieved that the goodbye is over.” Don’t turn the page into a lesson or a pep talk. Just tell the truth before God. When the timer ends, write one more sentence: “God, meet me here.”

2. Choose a refuge for the next twenty-four hours. Pick one small, repeatable place or moment where you’ll pause when the separation feels sharp. It might be the kitchen table before breakfast, the front step after the children are in bed, or the passenger seat before driving home. Read Psalm 46:1 aloud there. If speaking feels awkward, whisper the words or read them from your phone. Let this become a physical reminder that you can return to God without needing a perfect prayer.

3. Pray the honest sentence you’ve been avoiding. Give yourself two minutes, not a long devotional assignment. Start with “God, I wish…” and finish the sentence. You might write, “God, I wish this goodbye didn’t hurt so much,” or “God, I wish I knew when we’d talk again.” Then add, “Since I don’t know what comes next, help me receive enough strength for today.” If children are nearby, invite them to share one thing they miss and one thing they want God to help with. Keep the prayer simple. A whispered sentence counts.

Before the day ends, notice one ordinary task you completed after goodbye. Maybe you made toast, answered a work email, took medication, got the kids to school, or changed into pajamas instead of staying in yesterday’s clothes. Don’t dismiss these things as too small to matter. They are part of caring for the life in front of you. You can offer them to God with a quiet, “Thank You for helping me do this.”

If the first day feels messy, that doesn’t mean you’re doing deployment wrong. There is no required emotional schedule. Some tears may come immediately. Others may wait until the first video call ends, the first holiday arrives, or the first time you reach for your phone with good news to share. God’s presence isn’t limited to the moments when you feel spiritual. He is with you in the pause, the ache, and the ordinary work of continuing.

Closing Prayer

God, the goodbye is fresh, and I don’t want to pretend I’m fine. You know what I’m carrying - sadness, fear, pride, anger, relief, and love. Be my refuge in this first stretch of waiting. Give me enough strength for today, patience for what I cannot control, and peace for this next breath. Watch over the one who is away, hold our family close, and help me remember that uncertainty does not mean I am alone. Amen.

End of chapter one. 29 more chapters in the full book.