Write a Soldier Today

(by Michele)

Why? It's not the 4th of July, or Memorial Day or Veteran's day...it's just July 7th. Well, because it's hotter than hell in Baghdad today, and because I said so, that's why.

I was out in the garden this morning picking over the wilted squash, and the crispy pea plants (still learning), and sweating through my sundress. It was already 90 degrees before lunchtime.When I came inside to park myself in front of the computer, thinking how grateful I was that God created air conditioning, I thought about my soldier, the one we've been writing to for a while, because I've had her letter sitting next to keyboard for a while and I have been meaning to write to her. I met her through anysoldier.com. Your letters and packages go to a soldier who doesn't get much mail, which is too bad because she writes lovely letters that end with Blessings, Love and Light and things like that. I just never know what to say to her, believe it or not, so I have the kids make cards and I send magazines and stuff. When I do write a longer letter I keep it casual.

Today I wondered how hot it was in Baghdad. Last time I looked, at 7pm Baghdad time, it was 97 degrees, with blowing dust. In a few days there will be a delightful high of 114 degrees. I doubt she's wearing a light cotton sundress covered in daisies while she's kicking butt in the hot sun.

Let me digress a bit here. I've been wasting my time lately fuming about a particular miserable apathetic ass I know who likes to spout off about our country, the war and especially Christians. He told me if he had a last name like mine (very Christian) he would have to change it. But I know, the only reason he can be as cynical and dismissive about God as he is, is because he has 28 different kinds of toilet paper with which to wipe his pampered ass, 20 different kinds of toothpaste to clean his filthy mouth. When he gets up in the morning he can shuffle groggily into the kitchen in his Fruit of the Looms, and decide whether he wants Crunchberries or Chocolate Fudge Pop tarts for breakfast, and if he doesn't want those, he can go to the store and live on Oreos for the rest of his life if he wants to. He's in a place where he's safe to think it's up to him to decide if there's a God or not, and free to decide whether he agrees with the way we're fighting for the freedoms and rights of others. He can even choose to check out and not care, because nobody is holding his sister hostage or bombing his street.

He never did anything to protect anyone's freedom. He's a force for nothing...at least not anything worth anyone's precious time. Sadly, he's made himself a placeholder.

So I got positive, and wrote to a woman who is not dismissive when it comes to God and is doing something. A woman who will never be just a placeholder. I told her how very much I appreciated her in as many ways as I could.

I feel lighter. I hope she does too.