• I promised you I would be there,
    But I found myself far from home,
    At war in the hot desert air,
    Our first Christmas married--alone.

    As I write this letter to you,
    I can’t help but think this is wrong.
    Christmas is when our child is due,
    And I’ve been away far too long.

    You’re all alone. You have no one,
    And my heart aches to think of it.
    As I burn beneath this cruel sun,
    I worry. What if this is it?

    I remember what I promised,
    “I will always come home to you.”
    And before I left we both kissed,
    Praying that promise would prove true.

    Sometimes, I dream that it’s over,
    And at home we’re a family,
    But the dream can’t last forever.
    This desert will not set me free.

    You have your faith, and I have none
    That I can ever find my way back.
    No, I’ll die before this is done.
    From this place, no one can come back

    And I pray like I’ve never prayed.
    I can’t leave you like this, not now.
    And even though I’m so afraid,
    A miracle will come somehow.

    I’ll be there this Christmas with you,
    As you face the future unknown.
    I know now what you always knew.
    We love and are never alone.