What a Difference a Yes Can Make

Edith Schaeffer‘s example changed the course of my life.

I lay on the couch one rainy Connecticut afternoon reading her family story, The Tapestry.

It’s a lengthy book that goes into detail about God’s work in her life (begun as the child of missionaries in China), that of her husband Francis Schaeffer, and their life together.

They spent many years in Switzerland running L’Abri where seekers went to hear about God.

God took them through many twists and turns–throughout their lives–but they prayed through their decisions and as I read the book, it seemed they always chose the harder option.

“That doesn’t make sense to me, Lord,” I prayed. “I’ve always thought if you don’t care, I might as well take the easier choice.”

But as I continued reading, my mind circled back to their decision-making process.

“Okay, Lord,” I finally said (still lying on the couch with the book on my pregnant stomach). “The next time I have to make a decision, I’ll take the harder choice. I’ll say yes.”

And that’s why I’m writing from a house in northern California today.

A shocked yes

The hard decision came through the door not an hour later.

At that time, my Navy lieutenant was up for orders. In the nuclear submarine “career pipeline,” his natural next duty station would be a shore job, meaning we’d live regular hours like normal people.

He’d go to work in the morning and come home in time for dinner. It sounded like a blissfully easy life after the swinging 12-hour shift work we’d lived through the last two years, not to mention the submarine overhaul nightmare and deployment we’d survived the years before.

Being able to plan our life–as in, when do you want to go on vacation?–seemed an extraordinary luxury. I could hardly wait to savor time together. I looked forward to it.

But my husband is an exceptional engineer and that day he came home excited about his prospects.

All I had to do was look up from my book.

“The detailer called.”

“The detailer called today. He offered me the engineer’s position on the USS Skipjack. What do you think?”

I thought of the toddler still taking a nap and the baby in my womb kicking at Edith’s book.

An engineer’s tour on a nuclear submarine is one of the hardest jobs in the Navy.As the oldest submarine in the Atlantic Ocean, the Skipjack would require even more time away with lots of mechanical problems.

I thought about the fast attack submarine deployment schedule and how his focus would be on keeping her at sea, and not staying home to play with the children.

I thought about how far we lived from our relatives–3500 miles–and how much time I would spend alone in an old house in the woods with an aging car and only a wood stove to keep us warm in the winter.

Hadn’t we decided he would take a shore tour so things would be easier on the family?

I wanted to narrow my eyes and scream, “no!”

But I had made a promise not an hour before.

He was grinning with such excited anticipation.

What else could I say?

“Okay.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes.”

He bounded upstairs and I closed my eyes. I may even have cried at the thought of what the future held.

But because of Edith Schaeffer’s example, I had promised.

We took the harder choice.

I look back on that day, now, and see it as the hinge of our life.

Because of that engineer’s tour–which was just as long and challenging as I anticipated–the rest of my husband’s Navy career changed.

Which led us to Monterey, Washington, Hawai’i, and then back to  California.

That “yes” inspired by Edith Schaeffer made all the difference.

It wasn’t easy. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Thanks, Edith Schaeffer.

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