I haven’t really prayed since my dad was diagnosed with cancer. It wasn’t necessarily that I was mad with God, but felt it unimportant and useless because it was terminal and we knew what the end result would ultimately be. I believe in God. I also believe that God knows everything. At that point in my life, pleading with God seemed helpless and hopeless...I knew what would happen. I saw his struggles, witnessed him getting sicker and sicker. I realize now that that was not the point. The point is to talk to God, let him know what’s on your heart. In that, I have failed. Perhaps he knows my thoughts. I hope that he knows what’s on my heart.
There has been something on my heart for the past week. Maybe it’s my hormones, maybe my emotions have been high this week...but tonight, I had to pray. I don’t say that to be boastful about my prayer. I had to get something off of my heart. Had to let God know one of my worries. I have sat through the funeral of someone that died to soon in the military. I have heard the 21 gun salute. Felt the person next to me tremble and cry out. I have seen a soldier hand the fallen soldier’s fiance a folded American flag. I will forever have the image of the Patriot Guard Riders, standing with the flags on their motorcycles waving, creating a buffer between the funeral proceedings and the protestors. I’m unsure of whether those images, feelings, and sounds will ever become less vivid.
As much as I am proud of those who join the military, I always have concern wash through me. That image will always cross my mind and I never want to go through this again. I never want to see another person/friend/family member go through that.