Shipping Out

Yesterday my sister emailed me that her oldest son, Michael, is being shipped out tomorrow. He is 24 and is in the Army National Guard and he called her and gave her The Talk.

He told her how to have his body shipped home. He told her that he wants a small, inexpensive funeral. He asked her to promise that she would care for his wife and baby boy. He told her he loved her. You know, The Talk.

You probably think he's going to Iraq, right? No, he is going by bus to Louisiana. He'll be helping protect workers from sniper fire.

This is our United States now. My nephew is traveling down to one of our southern states and he is mentally preparing to be shot at by its citizens.

Here. Here in these free United States.

Part of me cannot believe it. The other part of it believes it easily because of the anger and bitterness and overwhelming stress of the people all around me. I have watched people I've known for years become people I no longer recognize. Hatred has changed their faces and their voices.

I will have a choice in the days to come to become part of all that bitterness, but I will keep refusing. Instead, I'll pray for more of the peace that passes understanding. And I'll be doing whatever it takes to hold onto that peace because now it truly will be a matter of life and death.

Truly, I'd appreciate your prayers for my nephew. Thanks so much.



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