In God's providence, I was standing at our post memorial last night, drinking in a number of meaningful sights.
I can't really say I was standing, but panting and pacing back and forth. I had just completed ten miler in what I believe was my best time, motivated in part by a soldier from Guam who told me he wanted to talk. I finished my run with about six minutes to spare, which gave me enough time to wobble-walk across our small post.
The soldier never showed, which gave me time to examine the memorial more closely. This memorial--and our post--was named after a soldier killed in 2004. That is almost ten years ago. I was in college. My brother was getting ready to deploy to Iraq. All of us were just a few years removed form one of the most consequential events of our lifetimes--9/11. In the ten years since that time, much has changed for all of us. But not for this soldier. His brief story came to a close in 2004. Lost in the passing of time is the memory of many thousands of soldiers who will never return home, play ball in the backyard, or fill a spot at the dinner table. Life is but a mist, and a life lost will leave a mother's eye amist for a lifetime. Come, Lord Jesus, come.
I was awoken from my thoughts about this memorial by the clomp, clomp, clomp of a group of runners. There was seven of them, led by one of my soldiers who has lost 100+ pounds in the past year and a half. They were not natural runners, which is why they banded together to run the ten miler that I had set up at the last minute for this weekend. Unlike most runners, this group was running back and forth and up and down our tiny post in order to complete the race. Every so often, a cheer would go up from the group as they drew closer to their goal. I interact with a good number of runners. I'm not sure any inspire me as much as this group.
Every day finds soldiers--like the cheery running band last night--exposed to danger and their own chance at a lonely memorial. May the enduring memorial and mental image of this trip be that of blood-strewn wooden cross, where my Savior sacrificed Himself to bring spiritual terrorists like myself into an abiding and permanent peace with my Father in heaven.
