Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” Isaiah 6:8
Along the vast expanse of black night stretched out seemingly forever like a desolate sea, comes a sense of loss and loneliness, yet we must reassure ourselves that whatever pain we feel is for a good cause. Whatever rage we have, whatever magnificent tears come, whatever memory returns, we must be authentic in allowing these things to return in their intense forms so our faith is never vague. We must lean on what we know to understand what we just lost. Never forget. Never forget. Never forget…
For the love of this country our men accept death. This is what warriors know.
Lights crackle in dark houses. Night climbs upon rickety stairs and as warriors rise they carry within them grief from the loss of another man. But our dead are not gone.
Their spirits will cross the streams of forgotten waters and vanish fearlessly through the pines to the places where ancient stones hide themselves. They are going home to a place none of us can know. Until then let us do the work and wait for the call.” Be strong, be weak, be whatever you need to be but don’t be unplugged from the things that can heal you
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