"A soldier doesn't fight because he hates what is in front of him. A soldier fights because he loves what he left behind." - unknown

"God is our refuge and strength. He will protect us and make us strong" (ps 46:1). For those who will fly today, for those who are there now, and for those who will soon join the fight, Lord, shield them from all evil, strengthen their hearts, and bring them home safely.

Sunday, May 22, 2011


For the third time I peek my head into the boys’ room. For the third time I bring the covers back up over their little bodies. For the third time I listen to their steady breathing. For the third time I return to my room and climb into my own bed and pull up my own sheets.

It’s quiet.

The last time I slept in this bed, Eli was two months shy of arriving. Logan was still sleeping in a crib. C was about to finish up at Benning. It was winter – a week from Christmas. And not this past Christmas but the one before. The last time I slept in this bed he was very much here.

I don’t like our bedroom furniture (it’s okay – my husband knows). It’s very nice, very good furniture, but it was my give. I don’t like hard, modern lines – nor do I like soft mattresses – but C does and he needs better sleep in a shorter period of time so I gave in when it came to each of these pieces.

It has been a lifetime since I last saw them. It feels strange to be in this new room, surrounded by things that are so very much him and for him to not be here. I keep rolling because I keep sinking into this far-too-soft-for-me-mattress. When he is here I don’t sink – his arms hold me up. And, Lord, do I miss him holding me.

It’s so quiet.

It’s much too quiet.

I just want to hear him breathe.

1 comment:

  1. It must be a little like losing him all over again. I'm sorry.


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