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For the Boys and the Girls

By Remy Benoit

   It is warm here this morning, the sweet Louisiana rain afalling.

   And it is another one of those mornings when you all have so overwhelmed me with your joy, your pain, your love, once again.

   I sit here, open e-mails, talk on the telephone, and watch the love, the trust, the support you all have for each other grow with such lovely geometric progression across the planet.
   There is such pain, such joy; such love, such sorrow around all of us.
   I know there are days when some of you feel that it is all too much, but you go on.  And not only do you go on, but you reach out and help each other, holding on, keeping the faith, praying and trusting that what you are trying to tell the world will be heard...really heard.

   From where I sit, from the things I hear, you, we, are succeeding.
But as you all know, no battle was ever won in one day. So we will go on until the truth of what war is, what its aftermath is, is really heard. We will go on demanding that the media tell the truth.

   We will go on until people understand what Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome is like to live with, no matter what its source.

   We will go on until people, doctors, governments listen and act.

   So keep writing, keep talking, keep on telling the truth. As each yard of recognition of your stories is gained, is heard and is accepted, you will find that more and more of those soul pieces are coming home, healthy and joyfilled. And I know, that too, you will share. I know that because I know you and you can do no other.

   We have a term here, Steel Magnolia. Think about what it means. All of you have contributed to making me one from the one who said, Yes, you can, my Dear, when I said, Who am I to have a right to say anything about this; what could I possibly give to this? to each and every one of you who is there for each and every other one of you, and for me, every day in every way possible.

  I am so proud of you, so honored by your letting me be here.

  And now, I am going to ask yet another thing of you.

  This is the holiday season. It is one of the most difficult times of the year for everyone and doubly so for those who are ill, for those with PTSD. We touch around the world here everyday; from Australian beaches, to Canadian wildernesses; from New York, to Denver, to Phoenix and Indianapolis; from Europe to South Africa, and yes, even Malaysia.

  This is the time of year of Hannukah, Ramadan, Christmas, Kwanza. It is a time for miracles. It is the time for planning what we will write on the tabula rasa of the New Year.

  My request of you is that we join in prayer from now through New Year's Day; that we join in prayer for one of you who is barely able to sit up long enough to touch the computer keys, to another, so many others, who is, are, looking for the right service path; to those with doctor visits, empty larders. As I said yesterday, there is vast power in prayer. Let us geometrically increase its power by joining together.

  In the first century BCE, Rabbi Hillel said:
    If not now, when?
    If not by me, by whom?

  You already know the answer to that question. You are living it, and I love you all.

  A special message to someone here too...Vive le France, and Joyeaux Noel.

   The 91st Psalm is often called the Soldiers' Psalm: I am including it here.  Please send us your favorite prayers, your thoughts.

                      91st Psalm

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.

Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.

He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.

Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.

A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.

Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.

Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation;

There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.

For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.

Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.

Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name.

He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him.

With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation.

A Combat Soldier's Prayer.  This is a beautiful site.

A Confederate Soldier's Prayer.

  Love and hugs all around,


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This item is part of historian, author, editor, and educator Remy Benoit's ongoing weblog for Veterans, writers, students, and others who believe in learning from and making history; including thousands of articles and posts and the free writing seminar, Using History for Healing and Writing.

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