Something Worth Fighting For

Confession: I'm a drama queen.

So Michael works full time and goes to school full time. And he's a music major...and if you don't know why that would make matters different, bless you!

Anyway, so I really only see him in passing from Tuesday morning until Sunday (he literally comes in, showers, changes clothes and leaves again).

Thursdays are particularly lonely for me and I always think of this line from Cold Mountain, "If you are fighting, stop fighting. If you are marching, stop marching. Come back to me. Come back to me is my request." I am particularly awful at accents of any sort so even though I say it in my best southern belle accent...I'll spare you.

And then I imagine myself as a delicate southern belle (even though in real life I'd be more suited for the role of Ruby Thewes) at home keeping house, waiting for my soldier who's off fighting some heroic battle. I imagine him reading those words and  walking on beaches and over mountains, eating crawdads and goat meat, being nursed by some old lady with bitter herbs, walking through snow and ice, moving heaven and earth to get back to me...

until finally I hear the roar of a motorcycle engine pull into our driveway.

My soldier is home.

I know, he's not out fighting a literal battle. But he is fighting. He is fighting for our family.

The best part is that he gets to come home often enough so that neither one of us forgets what he's fighting for. Because that's important. There are no deserters here, no giving up because we can't remember what we're fighting for.

This is real. We are real. We aren't perfect but we are redeemed. Redeemed by a fierce God who has fought the battle of the ages and won.

Because this is something worth fighting for.

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