“Losing” a battle, winning a war. No shots fired, no blood spilled. But there was sacrifice.
My wife dug in her heels, tightened her jaw, lowered her brow and flexed her muscles. She was ready for battle.
Is it really worth it?
The outlook was grim. It was certainly just the beginning and it was only going to get worse. She was gathering her forces, rallying her troops, and probably internally reciting her inspirational speeches. But it was a battle that wasn’t worth fighting. It was one of those battles where there is no winner. It was a lose-lose situation. But when you’re one of the sides, you can’t see it, you’re blind to it. It’s not in your vision to see.
This is a First Thought piece written which prompted my other personality to write a rebuttal: How I took a bullet for my wife … and survived.
How far will you go to protect your loved ones?
I quickly realized I had to step in. I would have to, openly, forcefully, or stealthily, step in front and take that first blow. If I moved quickly, if I planned strategically, I quickly and quietly pondered to myself, if I could just get out ahead soon enough, I could possibly prevent a single shot being fired.
Like a flash flood, it was upon me. It was now or never and I had to step up, I had to step in front. The decision was swift and internal. No dillying or dallying, but pure instinct swelled up and it was clear to me that the immediate pain that I would have to endure would be minimal compared to the lasting, deep wounds the battle would inflict upon up my wife.
As this vision of her pain and suffering became more and more clear, I knew what I had to do—and do immediately. Once the decision was made, I was proud of it and I feared nothing.
My love pooled up and overwhelmed me and as I strode into battle, I was armored with the shield that only love knows. The pain endured would be nothing compared to the depth of love I received before even taking the first step.
The pain endured was inversely proportionly to the pain saved my wife, but exponentially less.
I made the call. Blood sprayed and swords clashed. It was of no matter for I was protecting my own. If I could see my own vision in battle, I would have seen a sly smile on my face as I was fighting on the side of love rather than hate. My fight was for love versus the enemy’s hatred. In this way, there was no way I could lose. I didn’t.
In retrospect, now minutes and minutes past, the suffering endured was so infinitesimal it’s practically embarrassing that anyone even debated the path of action. But it takes a flash of love, a split-second of putting yourself in the shoes of someone else to see how easy it can be to achieve so much, how little effort it can take on your part to increase the happiness—or prevent such turmoil, frustration and sadness—of someone else.
You must see the flash, have your eyes open to witness it and have your heart open to act on it and then get out of your own way and let your love for someone else overpower the love for yourself.