This war heralds many heroes, all those that are working on
the front line. I am ever grateful for
their commitment and dedication to you and me. I know quite a few who are living heroes in this pandemic, but today the one who is battling for you is mine, my hero, my daughter.
She is my daughter of 29 years who giggled and danced in her
daddy’s arms and played pretend weddings in our living room. She is my daughter
who acted as a little lamb in our church’s Easter drama, marched in the high school
band, cheered for her brothers through endless football and soccer games, and soaked
up the sun on the hammock with me over spring break.
But today, she is yours because today she is your hero. Today
and for the unforeseen number of days ahead, she is the one that will tend to
Covid-19 patients in the hospital emergency department. She will get up early
to prepare for a seemingly endless day. She will put on armor to defend you, strangers,
me, and her family against an unseen enemy. She will enter this battle with
limited supplies and staff. There are not enough supplies or tests or people to
help. There will never be enough PPE to settle her mother’s and father’s minds.
She will care for the needs of others and try to ease the frustration and fear
of coworkers. Adrenaline, decisions, and yes fear will keep her up at night,
but she is upholding lives that are in the balance. She will fight for the
people who are fighting for their lives.
This is my daughter who is brought to tears and whose usually
steadfast heart is torn by the decision to serve others and protect her family.
Who wins and who loses in these decisions? She is a mom of a two-year old son
and four-year old daughter who will want to be held close, yet she dares not
bring to them what she may contract from others. She cannot get close enough to
sooth her heart or theirs. She will be barricaded in her home, separated for the health of her husband and kids. She will die inside a bit when they want
to snuggle close, but her barrier and her "no" to them is a "yes" for you.This is my daughter who will come home too weary to eat but will take a deep breath and begin to care for her family’s needs.
She is the one
sacrificing important moments that the clock won’t give her back because she
goes to work so others will have future moments to share with their loved
ones.
This is my daughter who praises God even in the midst of this terrible storm. She knows
some days are good and some days feel bad, but right now it sure seems there
may be many discouragingly bad ones on the horizon. She is my daughter who trusts that He will be
her refuge, and she will find rest, peace, and joy in the days ahead.
This is my daughter who is on loan to you, the world; and I’m
telling you that she may be your hero today, but I want my daughter back when
her fighting for you in this war is over!
Comments
You know the moments of which I speak, how you sit there listening to the most exquisite and moving piece of music or you sit there at the end of a potent movie, and you feel the overwhelming need to be still, to let the emotions wash over you, like a tsunami was building inside you and finally crashed from within, forcing you to be quiet, to wait until you surface from that deep place. You cannot clap. You are filled with a profoundness that will not let you clap. Some experiences allow only room for a whisper to squeeze from your overflowing heart, your overflowing eyes, until finally, you can't help but scream at the top of your voice, BRAVO. BRAVO. BRAVO my sweet sister, my sweet niece, my beloveds all being affected. - Chrissy