We Pray . . .

We pray for soldiers . . .
who stand tall and proud,
who look so handsome in their uniforms,
who can swap war stories from sun up to sundown.

And we pray for soldiers . . .
who go when they’re called,
who go where they’re needed,
who wonder if their children will recognize them
the next time they see them,
who handle photos of their loved ones with as much reverence
as they handle their Bibles,
who must live with the images of war,
who tell themselves soldiers don’t cry — but they cry anyway.

We pray for their families . . .
for the kids who like to wear camouflage because Daddy does,
for the wives who pack boxes full of junk food and letters from home,
for the moms who tie yellow ribbons on every tree in the front yard.

And we pray for the families . . .
when younger children don’t understand
why Daddy isn’t there to read them a story,
when older children hide their feelings
because they think they have to be tough,
when moms are afraid to watch the nightly news,
and dads are afraid not to,
when wives sleep with the phone so they won’t miss a call,
when they dread the knock on the door,
when they try to explain to their children
why their father isn’t ever coming home again.

We pray for our nation . . .
where our hands go over our hearts
when we say the Pledge of Allegiance,
where families still hold hands and say grace before meals,
where we will always be one nation, under God.

And we pray for our nation . . .
when the planes returning from the war
carry soldiers headed for home,
or when they carry coffins draped in American flags,
when the sound of “Taps” echoes across Arlington National Cemetery,
when terrorists bring down tall buildings and then brag about it,
when peace on earth seems far away.

Lord, let us always remember . . .
to love this country we call the United States of America,
to teach our children that real heroes are found
in war zones, not in comic books,
to pray for the men and women who are still fighting today,
to say thank you to the ones who made it home,
and to honor the memory of the ones who didn’t,
as we care for the families they left behind.