A Day of Emotion

I just learned that as of a few hours ago, my brother, Scott, boarded a plane bound for the US from Afghanistan. After spending some fourteen months there, this day seemed like it would never come -- I can't imagine what he must be feeling.

Only a few months after my brother got married, he departed for Afghanistan as part of the United States ongoing battle with terrorism. He spent his days and nights trying to keep safe in the thick of the fight. He was able to come visit some of his soldiers at the mid-tour point here at Walter Reed hospital in Washington, DC, including one of his friends who had been seriously wounded and is now wheelchair-bound. Erica and I were able to spend some time with him that weekend, and it will forever be one of the most memorable late night pizza dinners on a Friday evening I'll ever experience. I could tell that the weight of a world was upon him, and I couldn't imagine how he was reconciling having to go back for another six months.

Shortly after his visit here, we learned that his platoon would be featured on 60 minutes. On October 19, 2008, Erica and I huddled close to the TV to watch the most gut-retching thirteen minutes of TV we've ever seen. There's something about watching your brother get shot at on TV that will do that to a person. (I've embedded the video of the 60 minutes segment on the bottom of this post.)

I know that this day is the culmination of thousands of prayers sent up from family, friends, friends of friends, and people who care for the safety of our fellow Americans who put themselves in harm's way each and every day. Some prayers were sent by name, others were sent in general. Both had a significant impact, I believe. The power of prayer truly is remarkable. I will continue to pray for our troops who remain in harms way, including the 17,000 additional troops that have now gotten the call, in hopes that they, too, return home safely when their day of emotion comes.


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