20 Years 

We were taking fire, and we were cut off from any support, we two trucks were alone, against the city. Any notion I had of being there to make a difference disappeared in an instant. When the bullet ricocheted off my door next to my head, I knew we were in trouble. That was the first miracle. There would be many more miracles to come. The RPG wouldn’t get fired, because of a well aimed .50 cal volley. The IED’s wouldn’t breach the cab. The second, third, and fourth RPG wouldn’t make direct contact with the truck. Neither gunner would be hit. The truck which tried to block our way would be an annoyance more than a hinderance, and both in the truck would meet Jesus that day. Along with the truck driver, and his friend, more would meet Jesus that day, by our hands. The gunner on my truck would have to abandon clearing the jam on the Mk-19 and use him M-16. Nearly going black on ammo, he never stopped returning fire with his small rifle. The final miracle would be my truck, which had lost all its fluids except gas. When I removed my foot from the pedal the truck died and wouldn’t start for nearly 6 weeks. There was so much damage to the engine from bullets it would take weeks to repair. 

         It’s an odd thing surviving such a well laid out trap. We walked right into it, and yet, we survived and many of them did not. While direct contact like that would be rare for our platoon, it was something I wouldn’t easily forget. I would also not forget the feeling I had during the attack. The bullet hit my door and both hands flung to the wheel. A calm rested upon me, and as chaos erupted inside the cab, I was at ease. Screaming, and bullets flying, along with explosions, and that young 20-year-old was not phased, not till the truck died and we were back with the other trucks. Once the truck died that’s when the peace I felt went away revealing the terrified, and very shook, kid. Was that the Holy Spirit resting upon me? I believe now, it was. I believe God sent a circle of protection around us, and saw us out to safety. Nothing else explains how we survived. When the insurgent had us dead to right and yet the gunner in the truck ahead of us made an impossible shot. Or the RPG that somehow flew just overhead, but close enough to sever the antenna of the truck in front of us. Or the other RPG that just barely missed either truck, but close enough to explode taking out my front right tire. How were they unable to stop either vehicle even when they blocked the path with a pickup truck. God was with us, protecting us. 

While I am aware that this following verse is for Israel, not for a small scout unit, I believe in my heart, this is what we experienced.

Deuteronomy 20:1-4 20 “When you go out to battle against your enemies and see horses and chariots and people more numerous than you, do not be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, who brought you up from the land of Egypt, is with you. 2 When you are approaching the battle, the priest shall come near and speak to the people. 3 He shall say to them, ‘Hear, O Israel, you are approaching the battle against your enemies today. Do not be fainthearted. Do not be afraid, or panic, or tremble before them, 4 for the Lord your God is the one who goes with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to save you.’

I cannot say what our odds were of survival, but it was not in our favor. And other than modern technology of our armored trucks, we still had little odds of both trucks making it out that day. What are the odds that not one of us would get hurt, not even the gunners? No, I say the Lord was with us, and his protection rested upon us, his Spirit guided me and kept me calm. We were not just lucky, we were blessed. 

2 Corinthians 10:3-4 3 For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, 4 for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses.

I march in the battle with the sword raised high. I’m still a soldier today, fighting a new enemy. The fight, the war for not our lives, but our souls. I’m a soldier, ready to deploy, all of my enemies, they tremble at the name of my general. I fought for the Red, White, and the Blue, and nearly died there. I lost part of myself in the hot desert, but the Lord of all found me broken and pieced me back together for a greater purpose. I fight for Him, I fight for a purpose greater than any on this earth. I fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. I fight for those who don’t know him, that they may have a chance. I fight and if necessary pay the ultimate price, to share one name, one single name above all names, my Lord, my Savior, Jesus Christ. If you knew him, you’d understand. See, He, the Lord of all, paid the ultimate price for you and me. Jesus laid down his life so we would know he was and is Lord. 

Fallen Soldiers, we stand on your shoulders. How many have died for us to know the name of Christ today. How many have died to have the Bible in English. The church is built on the blood of others. Starting first with Christ and his Apostles, and thousands of others. Even now brothers and sisters in Nigeria are shedding their blood for their faith. We must stand together, and stand tall, ready yourselves, and may we continue to sing praises for our savior. Let us lift up the name of Jesus so the darkness itself cries out in fear. 

It’s been twenty years since I saw evil face to face on the battlefield. But for me the battle isn’t over. My enemy is both the same and different, as it is against the father of lies, and his myriad of demons. While the projectiles that come my way are no longer bullets, bombs, or rockets, I am still under constant spiritual attack. While I survived the battle, only to come home to a foreign place. I recall it took me six months to find a job, and to do that I was forced to rely on a temp agency. The only work I could find was very difficult manual labor. It wasn’t even skilled work. In the years that followed, it seemed the best I had to offer was not worth much. 

One afternoon working my post I was flagged down by some students at the university I worked at. A student was going into anaphylactic shock. He ingested a cookie with something he was allergic too. I took off running down the hall as fast as I could to my bag. I grabbed my epinephrin pen and ran back, to quickly administer the life saving injection. Not long after the paramedics arrived and took over. In less than six months I had been given officer of the year for the district, which covered thousands of officers. I worked for the company for six years, but in my time of need, I was let go, forgotten like yesterday’s trash. Is that all I was, all that time? Just a body filling a space? Over the next couple years I would move into a more skilled position. Sadly, that position, although I loved it, would be marred by conflict. Eventually I would be injured on the job and during my recovery I would not hear from the company at all. All the talk about being a family, the company being more than a job, and yet once I was injured, that family was nowhere to be seen. Again, is that all I was, just a warm body filling a vacant position? 

Truth be told, in recent years I have struggled with the concept of relevance. While I don’t strictly have an answer for this, I am doing my best, to do my best. It hasn’t been an easy few years. Going from working to early medical retirement. As my body degrades and the cost of doing just about anything becomes more costly, I find it difficult to navigate the slew of emotions that are left behind. My desire to serve remains, but it seems the use for what I have to offer is lacking. Being retired is fun, being retired with no money is just boring. I have dreams and things I’d like to do, but the reality is without funds, most of it doesn’t get done. I have things I’d like to do, but ultimately it comes to this, what does God want me to do? In 2016, God spared my life, and saved me. Now, I’m living my life, trying to serve Him, and do the best I can. I keep searching for some grand plan He has for me, but now eight years later, I still don’t know His plan. While, I am waiting to hear from God on what my purpose is, I continue to write, and teach from behind this keyboard. I continue to bring the word to anyone who would listen from my podcast. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCV3r024gS2FRDIbpqnsDwWA

Living with chronic pain is not an easy journey. Often confused with pain from old age, this is not that. As I said, it’s been 20 years. It surprises me what we were willing to put our bodies through in the service of our country. I served in a time when patriotism was still high from the 9/11 attacks. I wouldn’t trade my service for anything though. Do I pay for it now? Sure I do, my body often struggles with just basic tasks, and seeing as if I’m only 40 years old, it’s a challenge. Life isn’t an easy road, and when you add in the life of a Christian, it adds significant challenge. We must face the reality of where we find ourselves, and not get stuck. While I don’t know what God wants from me, nor where am I intended to be, all I can do is serve the best I can one day at a time. Perhaps that’s all we can ever truly do. As scripture said, worry not for tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry for itself. Maybe the lesson to be gleaned is this, do the best you can today, with what you’ve been given. While I’m sure there is always a bigger picture, we have opportunities today. I guess the saying is true, ‘Today needs you, tomorrow can wait.’ Twenty years ago I survived, and although I can still see it clearly, I must remain focused on the needs of this day. Faith is what I live by today, and it’s that faith that tells me to keep going, keep pushing forward, keep fighting the good fight. I was a soldier once, fighting for a nation, and today I’m a soldier, fighting for the kingdom of God. May we never forget our battles, for they give the fight meaning, what we learn, what we experience, we may grow from. Never grow weary, and never surrender the fight. 

Today I remember the fight, the details remain in my mind, and I am thankful for God’s protection. There would be many more days of fight ahead, and some far removed from my time in the desert. A part of me is still there, even after all these years. A part of me died there I think. The young kid, full of life, and laughter is not the adult that left the desert behind. The last day in Iraq I remember sitting on the ground, my bag for a pillow, waiting for the helicopters to come pick us up. It seemed surreal at the time. Were we really leaving? That was it, just one day, the war was over for me. The ambush came so early in the deployment but it set the tone for the remainder time in Camp Ramadi. I would never view life the same. The constant awareness would become second nature. The constant threat assessment would be commonplace for me. The losses we feel every day in our hearts would not go away as easily as us flying from the base in a helicopter. The weight we carry has been with us ever since. War changes a person, and unless you experience it, it’s hard to explain. The battle for Iraq lasted more than 15 years and I have often wondered what did we gain? When I arrived there I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to free the Iraqi people from a régime that threatened their way of life, and held them hostage under the thumb of a ruthless dictator and his sons. Looking back, and experiencing the hurt, and the betrayal as I watched on TV. As ISIS took control of Ramadi. Why were we there, if it was just going to be given to a new enemy? Answers sadly would not come as the hurt funneled into my heart. What was a soldiers life worth? The scars left behind by that place are much like the wound Frodo wound experience on Weathertop, a wound that would never fully heal. 

I am still a soldier, albeit broken, and slower than I used to be. I still rise every day ready to fight the good fight, and know that war while we live might be inevitable, are only battles in the grand scheme of things. But Jesus will win the war. Jesus will return with a mighty army and slay the enemies of the throne. I a soldier in His grand army, continue to fight, but instead of bullets, and tanks, I fight with the Holy Word of God. I do not fear death, for death comes for us all. I believe when death comes I would welcome it as a release from my time in service, and allowed to finally go home, and finally rest. Jesus paid the price for my sins, and one day he will grant my leave. That day may not be today, or tomorrow, but till then, I soldier on, and I continue to fight the good fight, and I continue to stand my ground against all my enemies, the chief enemy, the father of lies, Satan. I shall continue to pick up my sword, tighten the straps of the Armor of God I so willingly wear, and prepare for battle today, the next day, the next battle, each and every day, I fight. 

To those who came home still in the fight, I pray for you. 

To those who didn’t come home, I fight to honor your sacrifice. 

To those who serve or served I salute your service. 

For more reading:

The Longest Road 

Youtube: Overcoming