Last week, I drove to Delaware to support my best friend and her family during a significant trial. The downfall, was that I only had two days off from work, so during the 36 hours I was away from Speculator, 13 of that was spent driving. On my way back up Friday night, I stopped at a rest stop to use the restroom (my bladder was screaming at me). On my way back out to my car that was parked further away from the others, there was a sailor (a real Navy sailor, in uniform) walking in front of me. I had this overwhelming urge to say hi, shake his hand, and thank him for serving our country, The short end of the story (the long version is too boring and involves a language developed by women that only women really understand, so I’ll spare you.) is that I chickened out. I’m a weenie.
As soon as I got back on the highway, it was all I could do to stop kicking myself. I was SO MAD that I passed up an opportunity to bless someone else who probably needed encouragement. AND it would’ve made my drive so much more enjoyable knowing that I had met someone new. I like meeting people, but obviously only when I’m introduced. I’m a big weenie.
So sailors everywhere, and other military-folk. THANK YOU! Thanks for serving our country. Thanks for fighting for my freedom. It’s because of you, that I can write what I want here. I have the freedom to talk about my own opinions (of which, I have a lot) and my Lord. And it’s because of your service, millions of children aren’t being forced to join an army somewhere. They’re actually getting educations that will help them run their countries some day. Millions of women aren’t being demoralized physically and emotionally. You’re not just fighting for our freedom, but the freedom of so many others too. THANK YOU!
That drive back north, was probably up there in my top 5 worst drives. Second to telling God, “no I’m not going to let you use me tonight.” It was pouring rain with a decent amount of traffic. To keep my mind occupied (I had already listened to all the sermons I had) I made up a new game. Maybe you could give it a shot on a long drive. Without looking, I’d pick a random CD in my CD book. As soon as I figured out what CD it was, I’d skip to the tracks that made me buy the CD. It kept me entertained for hours because I got to listen to all my favorite songs and changing CD’s constantly kept my mind sharp. I call it “Super-Tired CD Roulette.” It probably saved lives that night.
Thanks for reading.