Five Years

Note: This post was written when we thought Mark would soon be leaving for a 15 month deployment.

March 18th marked the five year anniversary of the war. Where were you the night we invaded Iraq?

I was out with some girlfriends at a Mexican restaurant in Arlington, Virginia. The official announcement had not been made, but everyone knew something was coming. One of our friends, "Jen," whose husband worked for "the State Department," had actually asked her not to go out that night. (He's in no way controlling, just burdened with classified information.) Jen made her case to her husband. He said, "OK, but please be home by eight."

It struck me that night at the restaurant that we could all break out singing a Les Miserables song:

Tomorrow we'll discover
What our God in Heaven has in store!
One more dawn, one more day, one day more!

Now, five years later, I pay respects to countless empty chairs at empty tables. My deepest sympathies to families of men, women and children, from all over the world, who have passed away in this conflict.

As our little family stands at the brink of the storm, I pray in the words of Jean Valjean: "God on high, hear my prayer. In my need you have always been there . . . You can take; you can give. Let him be . . . Let him live. Bring him home."

(Incidentally, I have every confidence that Mark will come home, physically whole and mentally and spiritually unscathed.)

I pray, too, that all mankind will someday learn "the truth that once was spoken: To love another person is to see the face of God!"

I draw tremendous solace from the Les Mis finale:

For the wretched of the earth there is a flame that never dies. Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise . . . [We] will live again in freedom in the garden of the Lord. [We] will walk behind the plough-share, [we] will put away the sword. The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward.

I pray for peace when tomorrow comes.