Men sit in silence as they surround a metal box. The roar of the engines is all that can be heard. A flag drapes the coffin upon which sits a simple emblem, elite special forces. What he did is known only to a few, it may be 50 years or never before we all know the truth. Men who choose a different path now reflect on what has been done. One of their own has paid the price, a hero that will remain unsung. His family will receive a letter and a medal posthumously. Some will know he died a hero, but silence is their creed. Many could have gone a different path, they could have been an athlete.  Instead they heard a higher call, one that most will never understand. Suffering the rigors of training that few will ever see, they work to achieve excellence, to take their place among the elite. The best our country has to offer, they go off to fight in wars. In places that we have never heard of, against enemies that we may never know. Knowing each mission could be their last, and that the flag draped coffin could be all that they get as a reward. The hidden heroes of Americas special forces, do what must be done, so that we can live in peace in the land that we call our home.

God is in my pocket, where I carry a few extra dollar bills. He goes with the money when I give it to do his will. God is in my heart to convict me of my sin. He is in my prayers when I ask for his forgiveness again. God is in my life when I think I cannot do anything right. He lets me know I am not alone in this fight. God is in the sick beds and in the nursing homes. Despite what people thinks, he does not leave his children alone. God is in the rain storm when the earth cries out with thirst. God is in the city streets when we go on to our work. God is not just in one place you see. If you think about God can be found in you and me.

On a cruel tree blood and water did flow. From a broken body the sinful world was made whole. In anguish he cried as the spear went in deep. Then rivers of salvation from his side did seep. He gasp for one final breath and said father it is done. Then the sky grew dark and the earth trembled at the setting of the son. A Roman solider looked on and said truly a righteous man has been slain. Yet salvation was born when they pierced his side that day.

The needle in my arm just hangs there. The burning sensations have disappeared. I am becoming numb as I turn ashen. I see the lights becoming a blur. As I lay on my bed, I think finally I have killed my pain. My breathe becomes shallow, each one seems like my last. I can no longer hear the noises, everything is simply a buzzing in my ears. Perhaps this is it, perhaps I will not come back this time. As I slip into unconsciousness, I feel a slight chill ,as I enter the blackness the world grows cold around me.

I have a mirror cut from black glass, it stands in a frame hewn from dark wood. The surface is finely polished so that your reflection can be seen in the faintest light. Some people who see it think it is quite odd, but it is very practical you see. Because when I look in my dark mirror I see my truest self, not a pretty lie that the world wants me to see.

I sit quietly as you walk by, but you do not notice me. I find reasons to be near you but I feel unsure of myself. I go home and hide in my room as I look in the mirror I do not like what I see. Perhaps if I were thinner you would notice me. I skip breakfast and nibble at my lunch. I go home and eat my dinner then I throw it up. I toss and turn all night hoping tomorrow will be the day. I put on my clothes and they do not fit right. I look at my hair and I see that it is thinner so I think if I dye it perhaps it will look right. I go to class and sit near you, but you never look my way. I cannot figure out what is wrong with me, so I think of another way. Perhaps if I was thinner, then you would see me. I get a few pills from a friend so that I will not be hungry all of the time. I bump into you and you just look at me funny. I am not sure what it means, I just say sorry and walk on. I look in the mirror and I don't like what I see. I am still to fat, perhaps that is why you won't notice me. My mother finds me on the floor of our bathroom. I wake up in the hospital the room begins to spin. I wonder why everyone looks worried. I have an IV in my arm and it makes me feel ugly. I thought this was how it is done. I see the pictures in the magazine, they are all so pretty and thin and look so happy it seems. It turns out that what I thought was helping wasn't good for me. I am just lying here in my hospital bed dying for you to notice me.

The chess board is not square it is round. The pieces do not all look the same. The kings and queens change erratically and the game is not always fair. Pieces do not conform to strategic norms and many are often sacrificed for what is foolishness. Few are the knights and many are the castles and bishops that block the path of the pawns. The castles hold power and watch as kings and queens fall, while the bishops spew false hope and tell lies that they think the unwashed masses want to hear. Piece by piece the game unravels as the world falls into disarray. Hope is a commodity that is in short supply as I one of the pawns struggles to climb up the rung of the ladder, only to get knocked back two spaces. How cruel is the game and how unfair is life, if only we could have a equal playing field.