This winter, a beautiful owl kept visiting our Army quarters. Almost every week, in the cold, dull weather, it would sit quietly on an old tree outside. It never made a sound, never demanded attention — it was just… there. Watching.
Somehow, that owl became a reminder I didn’t know I needed: even when I don’t feel God’s presence, He is still there. Watching. Holding. Aware. As 2 Chronicles 16:9 says, "For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to Him."
That verse stopped being a nice line I’d heard before. It became personal.
Because here’s the truth: being an Army wife is not easy. Being a mother to a three-year-old, while working from home in a corporate job, stretches me in ways I didn’t know were possible. January 2026 didn’t begin with fresh goals and motivation. It began with anxiety, emotional exhaustion, and one challenge after another. I often felt like I was barely holding things together.
And yet, in all of it, God never withdrew. I might not have felt Him. But like that owl, He was still there.
Last year, my husband appeared for one of the toughest exams in the Army — the Staff Course examination, a pathway toward leading an Indian Army unit as a Commanding Officer in the future. That season was intense. We prayed, we fasted, we hoped. Through that journey, and everything surrounding it, God quietly taught me three lessons about leadership — not just in the Army, but in life with Him.
My husband believes in Christ. I do too — but if I’m honest, comparison is something I struggle with. I often want to 'do better', 'be better', even spiritually. But who are we competing with, really, when we are all sinners saved by grace?
While my husband was in Pune preparing for the Staff Course, I was in Punjab with our daughter. During that time, my quiet time led me again and again to the Book of Joshua and 2 Chronicles.
Joshua’s life struck me deeply. He was brave, courageous, and fearless while leading his army — but his strength came from his integrity toward God. When God told Joshua, "Do not be afraid of them, because by this time tomorrow I will hand all of them, slain, over to Israel" (Joshua 11:6), Joshua didn’t hesitate. He obeyed fully. He didn’t improvise, didn’t rely on his own strategies beyond what God instructed. That obedience led to victory.
Interestingly, Joshua was also my husband’s favourite reading during his preparation. For him, it wasn’t just about believing in God, but being brave in Him. Stepping forward despite pressure, uncertainty, and expectations. By God’s grace, he succeeded in the Staff Course — and that testimony became a mirror for me.
In my own busy, noisy, everyday life, bravery doesn’t look like leading an army. It looks like showing up again. Trusting God when I’m tired. Choosing faith over fear, even in small, ordinary moments.
If there’s one word that makes me uncomfortable, it’s obedience. It sounds like discipline, consistency, structure — all the areas where I know I struggle.
But 2 Chronicles kept bringing me back to the lives of kings: Solomon, Asa, Jehoshaphat, Amaziah, Uzziah, Jotham, Hezekiah, and Josiah. They weren’t perfect. They faltered. But again and again, they returned to God. They obeyed Him. They sought Him.
January 2026 did not go the way I planned. My heart would race. My thoughts wouldn’t slow down. Sometimes prayer felt less like eloquent words and more like breathing just to get through the moment. Yet even there — in the mess, the mental noise, the exhaustion — He was steady.
My faith trembled. His faithfulness did not.
Like the owl that kept sitting there, quietly watching, God did not look away. 2 Chronicles 20:21 says, "Give thanks to the Lord, for His love endures forever." That 'forever' began to mean something deeper. His love didn’t depend on my perfect routines or my emotional strength. From those kings, I learned that obedience is not about having everything together. It’s about choosing God again and again. They sang. They trusted. They remembered that the battle belonged to God, not to them. That truth humbled me — and relieved me. My job is to obey. The fighting is His.
Life as the wife of an Army officer often tests my faith. Long days of separation and silent nights remind me how uncertain life can be, yet I find peace in God’s promise: '"Be strong and courageous… for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9). His presence comforts me when fear or loneliness creep in.
As a mother, I draw strength from Him to care for my daughter with love and faith. When worries rise, I remember: "She is clothed with strength and dignity."(Proverbs 31:25)
One night, during a particularly trying time, I opened my Bible and read: "Praise the LORD, who is my rock. He trains my hands for war and gives my fingers skill for battle." (Psalm 144:1). That verse met me right where I was. God was giving my husband skill for his own battle — and He was giving me strength for mine. Mine was not on a battlefield with weapons. Mine was in a room, holding my child, choosing not to give in to panic. Slowly, a deep peace settled in. I lay down with my daughter in my arms. I had to live what God had been teaching me: to be brave, to obey, and to put His Word into action.
Jesus came to bring Good News, not bad news. That doesn’t mean life is easy. It means that even here—in fear, uncertainty, and weakness—His grace meets us. Faith cannot remain only in our thoughts. It has to move into trust, into surrender, into the next small step.
Looking back, I still see that owl in my mind — quiet, steady, present. A small picture of a big truth: even when I feel overwhelmed, unseen, or afraid, God has not taken His eyes off me. And somehow, in that watchful love, I find the courage to keep going.
Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash
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