|Thursday, Mar. 20, 2003 || A different kind of world|
So, we are at war.
Perhaps I am just trying to hide my head in the sand on this whole thing, but I have found myself avoiding watching TV or checking out news websites. As if my inattention to the matter will make it go away.
On the one hand I feel like in order to keep calm about this whole matter, I just have to trust that the leaders of our country, and others who are involved, know more than we do. That there is a reason besides economics and oil to take down this dictator.
I just don’t believe that in our quest to “know all” that the government can actually tell all.
On the other hand, this war is becoming personal, whether I care to admit that or not.
When we went to war in the gulf 12 years ago, Rob was in the military. Although his mission (which he could never say exactly what it was, though we all knew the gist of it) was not directly related to the conflict there, it was a bit unnerving knowing that he had to leave early for deployment because they didn’t want an entire submarine crew in the air when we declared war. He was away when Kuwait was attacked and he was away when “Desert Shield” turned into “Desert Storm”. I don’t remember being overly anxious or concerned.
It was all over before his deployment was complete.
But this war, this war that I have willfully tried to ignore, may involve the guy who adds that crunching guitar sound to our Praise Team each Sunday…
He plans to re-enlist the end of this month.
As this war wages, I think of my friends in the Middle East. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, American friends. With two beautiful children. I am not naïve enough to think that their presence is unnoticed or unquestioned. That they are completely safe.
I wish they would just come home.
I support our troops, the men and women who are, and will, sacrifice to serve this country in that place so far from my quaint little home in the heartland. But as this conflict begins, I can’t help but see three children. Our children. Twelve years ago, it was just Rob and me. No nine-year-old to ask if we got Saddam yet or choose to watch the news instead of cartoons.
I don’t remember thinking of war and mad dictators when I was nine years old.
We are giving our children a different kind of world.
Just a reminder - Friday, Aug. 10, 2007
Rockin' Girl Blogger - Wednesday, Jul. 18, 2007
A good end - Friday, Jun. 01, 2007
Moving on? Yes and no. - Monday, May. 07, 2007