It’s been 16 months since he traded his military uniform in for overly recycled, faded brown scrubs.
As I prepared it for the cleaners this morning, I was struck with memories and sadness. I spotted the dark sweat stains that had, 16 months prior, blemished the undershirt to his uniform. For three days he sat nearly defenseless before a judge, a jury, and a courtroom of observers as he was brutally attacked by the government. Through the berating and mockery, his only defense was to sweat.
Now, 16 months later, I have officially taken my husbands military dress uniform to the dry cleaners. A uniform likely never to be worn again but that bears so many reminders. Reminders, not just of the moment that changed our lives forever and the pain that endured, but of the grandeur of God’s amazing grace by which we have been sustained, refined and purified through these trials.
Our lives are in his hands,
and he keeps our feet from stumbling.
You have tested us, O God;
you have purified us like silver.
You captured us in your net
and laid the burden of slavery on our backs.
Then you put a leader over us.
We went through fire and flood,
but you brought us to a place of great abundance.