Tears and scars

This morning emotion flowed through me like an artic wind. Chilling and real. I wept. Not the sniffle tears but the sobbing kind. I had to pull over to regain my composure.

the following is what has come from the emotion.

My first born is a Marine. nuff said.

I bear the scars of professional ministry. Scars that have come from those who would personally attack because of my blunt attitude and willingness to be honest. It is hard to be honest sometimes, but we give what we get. For me it has been rawness. It is not comfortable to many. So they attack. Not full frontal attacks, but the ones where stealth hides motives and actions. I say this to give insight.

I too attack. The institutional way of thinking. I would like to say it all evens out, but I find myself limping more than I used to. Maybe it is because I am getting old.

having the reputation is both good and bad. As with most things I have abused it and used it for my own pleasure. It does not negate the scars. Some heal quicker than others, some have not healed because I continue to open tha bandage.

I would gladly take these and many more scars for the safe return of my son. I would gladly go so he would not have to. I would gladly die that he would live a full life unto our great God. However, this cannot be the case. Willingness does not always allow for opportunity. Alas, I cannot bargain. Their is nothing I have worth as much as the voice and presence of my son.

I cannot take his place. So I weep. Not so much for lack of trust in Jesus to care for and protect, but for my inability to do the same.
trust and faith is all we have. It is all we have ever had. So we trust and we pray.

I cannot take his place, so I weep. I cannot take his place, so I pray.

I am glad He took my place. I am glad He has taken my sons place.