In my War Room

woman wearing black tank top leaning on table

Photo by Engin Akyurt

 

As if at forced shutter speed all life  now is slow motion.

A stealthy enemy invades War Rooms with limited detection.

At what price can we buy peace of mind and human devotion?

This peripatetic killer cares not for education or station

and will only be stopped by God’s love of our Nation.

 

 

I am still right here my neighbor.

I will pray through this long dark night with you.

Let us lift up our pleas to the One who heals.

Let us be the ones called courageous and true.

I will, I will fight in my War Room for you.

 

I have always felt set apart

big waves under cloudy sky

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS

 

I stare out my window

Like a sea wife staring out the horizon

Time moving ever so slow

 

 

 

I have always felt set apart

Looking outside of dreams into the  indigo haze

Time capturing the beats of my heart

 

 

This is what faith is

The hope of what can’t always be seen

Time cannot define where he is

 

The drums of lies touting of a merry hell

 

broken drumstick close up dark dirty

Photo by abednego ago

The drums of lies beating through the night city swells.

The lies touting of a merry Hell.

Hardened  in heart pursuing only self, dancing to the tune of gaining  wealth.

When day dawns over the city’s night all will be blinded by the Holy Light.

The drums are lying, darkness takes your life.

For Hell can’t be merry and is not the tale of fairies!

 

 

 

 

 

Home

people sitting on the edge of a cliff

Photo by Angelo Duranti

Her passion is tender.

Her pain is massive.

Her mind is lithe and quick.

Her body is no longer as swift.

 

Her temple once was a house of cards,

built by her birth, her fear, and her works.

Now she stands on the rock called Jesus

careful to follow him with her cross.

 

A new temple foundation built,

she is sure of this The Holy One.

He makes all things new with his Holy breath,

and will lead her in both life and death…

Home.

Get the Kill Shot (based on a true story)

man in camouflage army uniform holding rifle

Photo by Kony Xyzx

 

She has been hiding here for almost three days…she is basically lying in a sewer. The smell and wetness don’t affect her anymore. To get the shot she must not move. The target is hiding out in a bombed out building. She didn’t eat, barely sipped enough water to stay alive and wore basically a diaper for urine. She has had very little solid food in her so her bowels did not move…she stayed hydrated and that is key but if the shot took much longer she would inevitably grow weaker. One time she stayed in a position for six days…recovery was rough. She would need intravenous fluids after this and a push of vitamins and electrolytes as well but she knew her body and she knew her window of time and the clock was running.
She is well camouflaged by a versatile cape that also provided some protection from rain and dampness. Her small frame is every inch muscle. She is tall and lean. Her rifle is wrapped in strips of burlap and tied down with yarn to ensure no reflection from the sun. To be a good sniper you simply must have common sense. It is a matter of fact. What is the distance to the target? How will gravity influence the bullet across its travel distance? What are the wind conditions? Is the target moving? Is the target getting too comfortable with his hiding place and becoming less vigilant? If the target is moving, how fast is his speed? Most people believe being a good sniper is all about control and having the best rifle but she begged to differ. She believed it all came down to what she believed about herself, about what she knows she is capable of, and what she is willing to do to get “the shot” the first time. She does “know” her rifle intimately however. It is like a part of her body. She knows the rifles scope like she knows her husband. She is precise about everything. Being the best sniper involves making decisions in the split of a millisecond and knowing it is the right decision without question. She is able to slow her mind. She thinks “I am one with this sewer, I am sound. By the time you hear it and try to process it, it’s too late because I am already gone.”
Yes she is a woman. She is a soldier. She is a Special Forces soldier. She is here to serve her country. She does not worry about PTSD or being raped by anyone. Those are the only subjects most of the world like to talk about when it comes to women in the military. She has never been disrespected by male soldiers and she has never disrespected a male soldier. Her calling is to be the best soldier she can be and she is a good one. She is an even better sniper. She will not hesitate to kill the enemy. She does not count her kills but she has never regretted even one of them. She has saved the lives of hundreds of soldiers by doing her job and being the best. She is a daughter, sister, wife, and mother. She is a woman. She is brave and she is one of the elite in her field. She is part of a controversy, not by her choice, in America regarding women in the military but she will carry on because her country needs her. She is paving the way for other smart determined women soldiers. She has counted the cost and is willing to pay the cost. She is an American hero…ahhh, here is the moment, the millisecond has arrived, and she takes the shot…it is done.

Fear and Faith

man walking on the empty street

Photo by Alex Fu

Even in the darkness I cannot hide from you…

When my fear whispers that I will not be able to cope

that I will never make it out of this hole…

Faith tells me my Father knows what I need

The Father who keeps filling me with his strength

and just in time He supplies all the Holy Light

that I need to battle through this dark night…

I raise my head from my prayer and I see Jesus kneeling there 

The Light of the world has prevailed and no earthly power can keep me from His care…

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Angels Have Not Grown Older

man with wings standing on brown mountain peak

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad

 

The Angels have not grown older.

I always see them over my shoulder;

gentle, yet piercing mighty eyes.

Always checking the road maps and signs.

 

I have grown much older;

my dreams like nets all thrown.

Some  I’ve known have wished me well;

a couple of them said “go to hell.”

 

Words, just words without caring.

Words, just words both wrong and right.

Still, I journey on toward His Holy Light.

Still, the Angels lie down beside me each night…

I journey on.