Also linked to Wedded Wednesdays at Messy Marriage.
As I write this, I do not know how to go on. Pain's reached a level where the day is turning into a series of snapshots, artillery illuminating a dark landscape, occasional words cutting through static on my headset, Flares dropped from a circling helicopter.
Muzzle flashes, and tracer's probing fingers in the night.
I still have the same hopes, the same dreams. I'm not so different from you. I'm not pried completely away from life.
But the defenses are starting to fold, and I have to find a way to shore them up, and keep going. I have not the same strength I had.
I need breathing space, a time to heal, a place to bind wounds and catch breath.
The same dreams are there, and I want to go on. I have to go on. I don't want to lose me.
But I can't stop the pain. In tears - it hurts.
And so, God, you've got to pick me up. You, and the arms and hearts that make up Your body in this world.
You've got to carry me through this dread field of steel rain, to where I can rest in defilade again.
To be the same. To still be me.
Is that too much to ask?
This was not easy. None of it is.