American Sniper - Boekje Pienter

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He would never tell me how dangerous things were, but I
got to the point where I felt like I could read him. And when he
told me that his guys were taking him out in a convoy, just the
way he told me about it made me fear not only for them but for
him. I asked a couple questions and the careful responses told
me how dangerous his extract was going to be.
I felt very strongly that the more people I had praying for
him, the better his chances. So I asked if I could tell his parents
to pray for him.
He said yes.
Then I asked if I could tell them why, about the fact that he
was coming home and the danger in the city, and he said no.
So, I didn’t.
I asked people for prayer, alluded to danger, and gave no
further details other than to ask them to trust me. I knew it
would be a tough pill to swallow for those few I was asking.
But I felt strongly that people needed to pray—and at the same
time that I had to adhere to my husband’s desires about what
was to be shared. I know it wasn’t popular, but I felt the need
for prayer overrode my need for popularity.
When he got home, it seemed to me Chris was so stressed
he was numb to everything.
It was hard for him to pinpoint how he felt about anything.
He was just wiped out and overwhelmed.
I felt sad for everything he’d been through. And I felt terribly
torn about needing him. I did need him, tremendously.
But at the same time, I had to get along without him so much