April 4,2004. Black Sunday. I was up super early this morning, wide awake thinking about that time in our lives and all of the years since. That day ended and altered so many lives. When you’re in your twenties, there is an invincible quality to your life. You know death is inevitable, but I think you really believe you’re too young to experience it. That is, until you are rudely and often tragically, awakened to fact that death doesn’t consider age. It calls on all, indiscriminately.

I wasn’t there and can not even begin to imagine the sights, sounds or smells of war. I was at home 6 months pregnant and raising a 3 year old. April 5, 2004 I hopped in my car and drove to our post for a prenatal appointment. On the way news came over the radio that First Cav 2-5 had been ambushed and there were casualties. This was my husbands unit. I could literally feel the blood draining out of my face. I pulled over, and with shaking hands made some calls to some family members. I managed to go to my appointment, sobbing in the waiting room. The drive home was the longest hour of my life. I was terrified that I would get home and have someone waiting for me to give me a death notification. Thankfully, that was not the case.

I waited and agonized for days. Finally the call came from my husband, and when I picked up the line I heard “I love you. I’m ok. I’m ok”. When he hung up the phone I just held on for dear life with a dial tone in my ear. I couldn’t put the phone down.

I can look back now, and see God’s hand on so may of those days. Like the day he came home for his two week R&R and I picked him up only hours before I ended up needing an emergency c-section. Then again two weeks later when I held a three year old by one hand and a two week old in my other arm, God held me together while I watched him go to his plane to return to a war zone. I did not know if I’d ever see him alive again and I felt so powerless, helpless, small. There were occasional letters and emails detailing near death experiences and miraculous interventions. I stayed glued to the phone, mailbox, and the news. Panic would swell my throat when someone would knock on my door. The worry and fear that creeps in is so real, I can almost taste it again when I think about it. Now, the calm during that storm is much more magnified to me.

I look back at this old box of letters and I recognize divine intervention. God was there in our midst and He still is. That year was the hardest year of our lives, and the years since have not been easy, but we’re still standing. For that I am eternally grateful!

April 4,2004. Black Sunday
In memory of our Heroes:
SPC Robert R. Arsiaga 04/04/04
SPC Ahmed A. Cason 04/04/04
SGT Yihjyh “Eddie” Lang Chen 04/04/04
SPC Isreal Garza 04/04/04
SPC Stephen D. Hiller 04/04/04
CPL Forest J. Jostes 04/04/04
SPC Casey Sheehan 04/04/04

SGT Adam W. Estep 4/29/04
SPC Jacob D. Martir 8/18/04
PFC Ryan M. McCauley 9/5/04
SPC Robert Taylor Hendrickson 2/1/05

Also in memory of those not listed who have come home and succumbed to their invisible wounds.

“For the greatest love of all is a love that sacrifices all. And this great love is demonstrated when a person sacrifices his life for his friends.”
‭‭John‬ ‭15:13‬ ‭TPT‬‬