Devotions for Boots on the Ground: Are You There, God?

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Possibly there is nothing more conducive to thoughts of the Eternal, than having one's face slammed into red, wet muck, with explosions so close your body arcs and bounces off the ground, hot shards burn in your flesh, and concussions are bright flashes of dirty fire beating a tattoo on the light receptors in the backs of your eyes. Your head aches; throbbing from visual shock waves. Time has come to an end; there is no right, no wrong, only whatever follows a life that is now over. The dark reaper is here. What's it going ...