Taps

A few weeks before the loss of Lt. Col. Darin Loftis became all-too-real to extended members of my family, someone sent an email that referenced the time-tested, easily recognizable, "Taps".

Back in late January, it was more of a curiosity to know the background of the song.  It wasn't important to my day to know obscure facts about a song I only heard sporadically.  So I flippantly blazed through the email, on to more pressing issues of that day.

No one knew at the time that much too soon this song would echo through a cemetery in honor of Darin.  Nor should they.  Death never comes expectedly or conveniently or as a welcome guest of honor.

But today, as I cleaned my inbox of unneeded mail, I paused for a moment to truly take in the message that had been sent.  I sat on the pictures that accompanied the story.  I thought of Darin's life and what it must have meant to so many, people both here and abroad.  I prayed over his family and those still serving in Afghanistan and those who are waiting for a plane to land so they can reunite with a loved one lost.

And I marveled that I never knew that words under girded the sound of the trumpet. 

I never knew that such simple, short phrases could be so powerful.

I don't think I will ever listen to "Taps" quite the same again.

Day is done. Gone the sun.

From the lakes  From the hills.  From the sky.

All is well.  Safely rest. God is nigh. 

Fading light. Dims the sight. 
And a star. Gems the sky. Gleaming bright.

From afar. Drawing nigh.  Falls the night. 

Thanks and praise.  For our days.   
Neath the sun.  Neath the stars. Neath the sky.

As we go. This we know. God is nigh.*

*It is comforting to me that nigh means "near in time, place or relationship".  No matter how you slice it, God is close.