Imagine D-Day

I've been thinking about D-day. 

Imagine being 18 years old, waking up and putting on your pants that morning. 

There would be no sleeping in, no calling in sick. 

You know that you could very likely die. (I think 10,000 did at Omaha alone.) 

How many bullet holes will pierce that shirt you are buttoning? 

There is a pit in your stomach. You do not want to die. You do not want to go. But there is no way back. No time to read one more letter. No time to write one more I love you. 

Now imagine how often a man of God might feel just the same.

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