My husband walked out the door this morning with a bullet proof vest on.
Emotions are raging war in love, fear, understanding him, and zero acceptance of the cause.
My husband made to protect what we don't believe in and I cannot even speak about it without becoming "F-bombing" furious. I go from fury to tears, from prayer to admiring the man he is. He's so loving and allows me to rage truth verbally, to him speaking into me that he is law enforcement in the gentlest and most loving way. Assuring me that all is well.
Until... he walked in the door last night with an arsenal of "protection" and the seriousness of what he is taking and why quickly has me at the reality of the situation all over again. Pinning his uniform, loading magazines, filling duffle bags with weapons and a trauma bag, I laid across the bed and watched him.
My husband is gentle, affectionate, patient, over the top loving, kind, and always super funny. He is my love and he is my Boaz. He is everything a husband is supposed to be, sprinkled in magnificence!
My husband, going in with his team of close friends, those who train law enforcement. My husband, years on SWAT, trains SWAT, he is highly trained in defensive tactics, weapons of all kinds, armed, equipped, and lethal with crazy-skilled talent.
He is at the 11th hour on the verge of retirement. To be put in a situation we do not believe in, to protect those who choose to put themselves in a place of threat of violence, threatening my husband's safety, puts me in a significant heart condition of extreme conflict between rage and prayer.
All it takes is one person for hell to break loose and today is April Fool's Day.
My husband is maintaining order among fools.
UPDATE: All went well, thankfully. Ended up being an unnecessary expense for taxpayers.
