What I See, What I Feel, What I Fear.

A boom sounded and I woke with a start. Names were yelled and voices responded…Everyone was okay. 
My friends and I have had a lot of close calls in this sad little country. We are able to decipher the difference between a whistle of a bullet and the crack of one. 

By the way if it’s cracking get the HELL down.
The enemy is good at what they do and I am afraid the next time we will not be so blessed. Shrapnel is an ugly weapon, due to its trajectory always being unknown. It is hard to stay safe in this home away from home.You never know when that jagged piece of metal will find metal instead of the wood at the foot of your bed.
I was always a little wary of living in a wooden hut which is so easily penetrated by almost any projectile. I just keep telling myself we are invincible and that nothing will happen. 
If I am going to be taken down in war I want it to at least be standing on my feet and returning fire. I honestly fear being taken down by the cowardly enemy without the opportunity to shoot back. 
All we can do is pray, that everything goes our way. 
I see so many vulnerabilities that we are doing nothing about. I feel so many chills running down my spine from the too close for comfort moments. I fear it will only get worse.

“Courage is not the ability to mask one’s fears, but the strength to stand in front of the bullets when everyone else runs away.”

3 thoughts on “What I See, What I Feel, What I Fear.

  1. Sometimes it's the voice of God, “Trust in Me. I will keep you safe.” You have many bands of prayers all over. God bless and keep you always.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s