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| Hi everybody. It's Monday, April 2, and it's Holy Week. It's been a while again since I've written. A week and a half ago, another of my soldiers was killed by an Improvised Explosive Device; four other soldiers in his vehicle were wounded, and given what happened to their vehicle, all four are lucky it wasn't worse. Part of the reason I haven't written is that I've been pretty busy, as has sadly become usual, with counseling and planning the memorial after this soldier's death. But there have been a couple times I've tried to sit down to write home and just haven't had the words.
Maybe it's the old lesson I learned as a child--if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. It's been tough to come up with anything positive lately. Even on the good days, there's still not much new or novel that I haven't already shared with you. When you live in the same 12 mile circle in the Iraqi desert for a year, you run out of things to say about everyday life. And sadly, the last couple weeks have not had many good days. A young man was killed in our first week of extension. The violence around us has surged back up again. Now we're marking Holy Week over here when we should have been home. I want to be open with you about what it's like over here, as much as I can, which means I want to share the hard times with you as well as the blessings. I just don't want this column to turn into the place where I unload my sadness and frustration every time I write. So, for the last couple of weeks, I've found something else to distract me every time I sat down to write to you all. I think I undertand much better why my grandfather, and so many veterans like him, didn't talk much about their experiences in WWII, or Korea, or Vietnam. But my connection with those of you who read this is important to me, too important to let go of so easily. So I write today not because I have something new and hopeful to share, nor because I have something sad and burdensome to get off my chest, but simply because I don't want to lose my connection with those of you who have read this and supported me for the last 14 months. A fellow chaplain warned me before leaving that the connections with people at home would probably stay strong for a few months and then fade as people got on with their lives. In some cases, this has happened, but I praise God and shake my head in wonder that in more cases, I still receive cards and email and care packages and prayers from so many people in the States, some I knew before I left and some whom I've connected with since then. It's for you that I write today, hoping that you will know how the struggle over here makes me appreciate you all the more. Thanks, and since I probably won't write until Easter, let me leave you with a phrase that has stuck with me for years when times are tough -- It's Good Friday today, but Sunday's coming. Sunday's coming. Easter Sunday's coming. He is risen indeed. God be good to you! |