The husbands of two of our friends deployed to those places where the war is over last week. The day after Christmas, they walked out their doors with their duffles and rucks, and boarded separate airplanes to land in separate countries.
The day after Christmas.
To two counties that we are no longer at war in.
I heard "a military at peace" uttered by someone a few days ago.
A military at peace.
Peacetime.
But they walked out the door. With their rucks and their duffles. They kissed their kiddos, hugged their spouses, nodded to the all-too-familiar plea "Come back to me." They boarded the planes. Their boots very much landed on foreign soil.
They were issued their weapons, body armor, helmets.
Their boots are on the ground in those countries where the war is over.
In those countries where they still need body armor, and armored vehicles, and bomb detectors, and helmets, and fire support, and guns.
Those countries where the war is over.
In the weeks before Christmas, they updated their wills. They hugged their children the day after; they stayed awake that night trying to think of everything and nothing. They prayed. They sat in silence to process, to prepare. They accepted their duty, answered the call, they chose to do their job.
They memorized the faces, thumbed away the tears, they laced their boots to go to those countries where the war is over.
How humbling to watch them go while so much of the nation does not know their boots are on the ground, that their families wait, that days are missed.
My prayers are with you. My thoughts are with you.
"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.
Safety to our Soldiers. Strength to those who love them.
The day after Christmas.
To two counties that we are no longer at war in.
I heard "a military at peace" uttered by someone a few days ago.
A military at peace.
Peacetime.
But they walked out the door. With their rucks and their duffles. They kissed their kiddos, hugged their spouses, nodded to the all-too-familiar plea "Come back to me." They boarded the planes. Their boots very much landed on foreign soil.
They were issued their weapons, body armor, helmets.
Their boots are on the ground in those countries where the war is over.
In those countries where they still need body armor, and armored vehicles, and bomb detectors, and helmets, and fire support, and guns.
Those countries where the war is over.
In the weeks before Christmas, they updated their wills. They hugged their children the day after; they stayed awake that night trying to think of everything and nothing. They prayed. They sat in silence to process, to prepare. They accepted their duty, answered the call, they chose to do their job.
They memorized the faces, thumbed away the tears, they laced their boots to go to those countries where the war is over.
How humbling to watch them go while so much of the nation does not know their boots are on the ground, that their families wait, that days are missed.
My prayers are with you. My thoughts are with you.
"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.
Safety to our Soldiers. Strength to those who love them.
