03/06/2026
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ง๐ค๐๐ซ ๐๐๐๐ซ ๐๐ซ๐๐ฒ๐๐ซ โค๏ธ
(A Fire Wifeโs Prayer)
I donโt hear the tones.
I donโt hear the boots hit the floor
or the locker slam shut.
I donโt see the smoke.
I donโt smell the fire.
What I hear
is the quiet of this house at night
when your side of the bed is cold
and your pillow stays untouched.
And still โ I pray.
Lord, wherever he is tonightโฆ
in a bunk room lit by flickering lights,
in a truck racing toward chaos,
standing in heat I canโt imagine โ
please cover him.
When he puts on his bunker pants,
let them be more than fabric.
Let them be protection.
When he settles that helmet on his head,
steady his thoughts.
When the air turns thick
and the world narrows to smoke and sound,
be his oxygen.
I donโt get to hold his hand
when the call comes.
So I place him in Yours.
Guard his lungs.
Guard his mind.
Guard the tender places he hides
behind strength and humor.
And when the shift is long
and the night is heavier than usual โ
remind him he has a home waiting.
A wife praying.
A life beyond the flames.
Bring him back through our front door
tiredโฆ maybe quietโฆ
but safe.
And if You can, Lord โ
bring him back whole.
In Jesusโ Name,
Amen
