Posted on 08/05/2008 6:17:06 AM PDT by smoothsailing
Welcome Home!
I can’t even read the posts. I’ve got a major headache trying not to cry, just reading the posts.
Thank you both.
None of you have a clue how much ya’ll mean to this ma.
God says:
I am covenanted, committed forever to love you;
to do whatever is best for you.
I will be kind, encouraging and enabling, but I will also be challenging.
At times I will come to comfort you in your affliction.
At other times I will come to afflict you in your comfort.
Whatever I do, it will always be an act of love and an invitation to your growth.
I will be with you to illuminate your darkness, to strengthen your weakness, to fill your emptiness, to heal your brokenness, to cure your sickness, to straighten what may be bent in you, and to revive whatever good things may have died in you.
Remain united to me, accept my love, enjoy the warmth of my friendship, avail yourself of my power, and you will bear much fruit.
In honor of LadyX
...author unknown:
Thanks and Welcome Home to you as well.
Thank YOU and welcome home.
Message delivered. Thanks.
Amen!
My brother was in Chu Lai in '66 (USMC). I was a squid aboard a Tender servicing ship's of the 7th fleet.
Welcome Home and Thank You.
US Navy - SFP2(DV)
USS PIEDMONT (AD-17)
63-67
♥
Now, I've read Russell's piece. Absolutely excellent. The amount of troop support across America is no less than a miracle to me. I can not imagine what the lives of military families would have been like, otherwise. I don't want to imagine it. I can't even put it into words without getting another headache.
The 'audacity of hope' phrase irks me to no end. These words of Russell's are the embodiment of that phrase for military families. As soon as I bite the buttons off murtha's uniform, I want to cut bo's t-shirt into little tiny pieces.
Amen bro on your sentiments.
(from “Selected Poems of Thomas Merton”)
Sweet brother, if I do not sleep
My eyes are flowers for your tomb;
And if I cannot eat my bread,
My fasts shall live like willows where you died.
If in the heat I find no water for my thirst,
My thirst shall turn to springs for you, poor traveler.
Where, in what desolate and smoky country,
Lies your poor body, lost and dead?
And in what landscape of disaster
Has your unhappy spirit lost its road?
Come, in my labor find a resting place
And in my sorrows lay your head,
Or rather take my life and blood
And buy yourself a better bed —
Or take my breath and take my death
And buy yourself a better rest.
When all the men of war are shot
And flags have fallen into dust,
Your cross and mine shall tell men still
Christ died on each, for both of us.
For in the wreckage of your April Christ lies slain,
And Christ weeps in the ruins of my spring;
The money of Whose tears shall fall
Into your weak and friendless hand,
And buy you back to your own land:
The silence of Whose tears shall fall
Like bells upon your alien tomb.
Hear them and come: they call you home.
God bless you all for standing up for The US of A against liberals and Islamofascists.
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