A mom and daughter walked into the courtyard at church this morning where I check kids in for Sunday School. I doubt they are aware that before they had gotten news this morning, they both dressed in nearly all black, the color of mourning, but it seems appropriate now. Teary eyed they came to my table, and then the tears turned to sobs, and the sobs to weeping.
When we candidated in May one of the things that stuck out the most was a family preparing to send a beloved son to war. I recall intentionally talking to them, out of the hundreds of people there, and letting them know we care, we are thankful for his service, and we will pray. I have gotten to know this family more over the past six months, though I have never met the son who has been in the middle east all this time.
The daughter--sister to the solider--flew across the country this summer to help another soldier rehabilitate after being hit. Her brother had introduced them (through email and mail of course, since both soldiers were deployed), and when he came home wounded she flew to his side and cared for him in what must have been his darkest hours. She is now engaged to this soldier, to this friend of her brother. Her brother's greatest wish was to get home in time for the wedding the end of this month, but it wasn't looking likely.
After today it looks like he will be home for the wedding, but not the way anyone wants him home.
His company has not been living at a base, but in alternative housing closer to where they need to be to accomplish their mission. They have been in a place known to be dangerous; today that danger came to them.
8 men were struck with some kind of explosive while in their temporary home.
This family's son called this morning. He is one of 2 who lived.
It puts a whole new perspective on what we consider to be
He didn't want to worry his mom, but his tone of voice and his choice of words let her know that while he is "okay," he is not okay.
While I don't want to share any details, his physical wounds are many, and potentially life-altering.
I can only imagine that his emotional wounds are far greater.
As I stood there and cried and prayed with this mom and sister of a now wounded soldier, it struck me that he lived. In a moment of explosion strong enough to kill 6 men, he lived.
What will he do with that life?
What will I do with that life?
What will you do with that life?