Through The Darkness

It's dark.
The stillness of early morning reaches in and quiets my thoughts.

Your peace fills my heart.

I'm taken back a few months ago to March in California
That early morning darkness on base, Camp Pendleton,
when I walked to the main building, listening to the silence of a world still asleep
Then, in the distance, I heard it -
the faint call of Marine cadence.
Though the world slept, there they were,
the disciplined, the few, the proud,
running to the time of duty requiring total sacrifice.

I'll never forget the peace that washed over me.
It was a familiar sound to my son who wasn't there.
It was sad but,
I felt at home.
I felt safe.
The cadence brought back Caleb's years of serving.
The love, the loyalty, the integrity.
The commitment, dedication, perseverance.
All the obstacles he had overcome.

Quiet confidence.
Caleb had that.
In all humility, he gave his all in everything he did.

Yes, that's it.
In this darkness,
there is quiet confidence.

Even though tears fall.
Even though the days are hard.
Even though in the morning when I wake the harsh reality hits again.
Even though.....

Yes, there, deep inside is unwavering confidence - in
 knowing that my God has been faithful in
getting me through each and every moment.

This morning it's there - that feeling.
the punch-in-the-stomach, I-miss-Caleb.

I know without a doubt where my son is.
He's having the everlasting time of his life.

But, I miss him.
I miss that his time here, is over.

In the silence sadness surrounds me, but so does peace.
I'm heartbroken without him.
I know where he is, and that we will be together again - .
I know I've said it before....
it's being here without him that's hard.

And yet, every time I think of Caleb
I have to smile.
I may be crying,
but I have to smile.
He always has that effect on me.
I don't ever want to lose that.
I don't ever want his smile and humor to grow dim.
Ever.

You know, I think God knows that.
I may not be able to see Caleb, but his life is so a part of mine
he will always be here
making me smile, making me laugh.

I really think so.
I have confidence in that.

Thank you Father for your word.
In quietness and confidence shall be my strength.
I believe.
Through tears and heartache,
I believe.

Making The Drive/ For Caleb

Friday, September 27.
I had to do it.
For Caleb.

I don't like driving in the mountains and refuse to drive over mountain passes.
The tiny railings that exist on the edge of steep drop offs on the side of mountains have never given me any sense of security.
Really? Like  those little things are going to stop a car from going over the edge.

Some mountain roads are narrow, two lane.
Think about that - especially if you're not the one driving against the mountain wall.

With those thoughts not in my mind, I told my husband I'd drive.
Nothing unusual about that.
I do that sometimes when we leave home on the plains - I have no problem driving on a four lane interstate with plenty of room - no steep descents in sight.
My husband usually gets to work on some paperwork for at least an hour....or he dozes.
At the end of an hour or two, he usually drives.

Not on Friday.
I drove.
One hour, two hours, and I kept on driving.
We got up into the high country, and it was beautiful.
I thought about Caleb.
I prayed.
I can do this.
I need to insert here, there are some four lanes in the mountains, too.
That helps a little - not much, but a little.
There are still those tiny little railings on the edge.

I drove through the mountains.
I drove over two passes (most of the second one.)
I drove through fog.
I drove through rain.
I drove through snow.
I kept saying, "This is so beautiful!"
"This is so fun!"

Laugh.
It's ok.
But, I meant it.
There was no fear.
There was no reason.
My son was courageous in the face of great dangers in his life.
His example has burned in my life like never before.
He trusted God with his every breath.

We got to Rabbit Ears Pass, and the weather was worse.
It was horrible.
Snow was falling like crazy.
Ice formed on the wipers making visibility difficult.
Trying to maintain control on the icy roads was like trying to walk in stocking feet across an ice arena.

Slow....
very slowly,
I drove.

At one point,
I found a place to pull over,
and my husband drove the twenty or so remaining miles.
I closed my eyes as we swerved on the icy roads.
I was thankful.
Not afraid (well, except for my husband's driving, maybe.)

There was peace.
I did it.
Thank you Caleb, for being such a brave son.
Your life impacts mine every single day.
I don't know if you knew this, but your life has been impacting our family for years.
Since you've been gone, the impact is even greater.
We are all reaching the mountain tops through this valley we are in.
We are all experiencing the challenges of life in a more positive way.

I know you are cheering us on.
We're getting it.
We really are.

Even though it's tough, we're risking life.

Thank you.
We love you.