Saturday, February 09, 2008


July 08


Zack


... you mighty man of valor!

Judges 6:12 (NKJV)


... though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil....

Psalm 23:4 (NKJV)


It’s been a month. I can’t believe it, a whole month, but it feels like six. Why does time drag so when bad things happen? Does someone mess with our clocks or calendars? Does God slow the earth’s rotation? It’s been a month—quite a month.

One month ago today, Zack died in Iraq. He was 20. He was young and brave, a friend of my son’s and my friend’s son. So, today, I find myself reflecting on January 9th, 2008 and all that followed.

The dreadful news was a major turning point for many and it came late in the day. A church staff member broke it to me with a quick phone call. She was close to tears and could hardly go on. It seems Zack’s team was doing reconnaissance north of Baghdad as a part of Operation Iron Harvest. He and five other soldiers were killed instantly when the booby-trapped house they were searching exploded.

It was difficult news and I had to share it with my wife. I thought she would take it pretty hard. She did. We were sitting on the floor when I told her, and my news rolled onto her like an Abrams tank. Her huge gasp was followed by an excruciating look of pain, followed by uncontrollable, sobbing gulps for air. We both cried, but she wept harder than I’ve seen anyone cry before. That was the thing I’ll always remember about that first hour, the intensity of emotion, the power of terrible words.

The next week produced an avalanche of activity. Here are a few of the many things that truly struck me:

- The mobs of people that surrounded Zack's family: Marshall, Laurie and Sarah McBride. Even strangers became friends. At the McBride’s home it was never too quiet, never too noisy, but always busy, and always there was this steady procession of food and hugs, and soft words. This quiet but powerful stream of activity proved a godsend. It helped. Amid the deep and brutal pain, it helped.

- The electrifying moment of seeing the casket for the first time. It took a few days, but the coffin arrived from the East Coast on a special airplane. After parking on the tarmac, the plane was slowly backed into an open hangar. We followed and the huge hangar doors were shut. Inside, high, blazing lights gave the hangar a sparkling-white appearance, and it was so quiet, it was eerie. This was a private moment and significant. People, huddled together behid the aircraft, caught their breath as, just inside the open cargo hatch, the flag-draped casket appeared for the first time. The crew lowered and delivered the remains with precision and professionalism. The polished honor guard took it from there, and soon we were formed up in a motorcade behind the hearse complete with leather jacketed Patriot Rider motorcycles and a blue sea of law enforcement officers.

- It was the State Troopers who made that steadfast procession so noteworthy to me. We were next to last on that clear, blue afternoon, and as I looked up the highway, I saw the mile-long string of vehicles and the tiny flashing lights leading the way. The high desert rumbled by as we plowed the fairly straight path from airport to funeral home. And then, there they were. Our State Troopers were escorting us, while blocking and directing others. One after another, at every intersection they held the traffic in place and, at the same time, saluted with great respect the procession as it passed. The tight lump in my throat reminded me why this is such a great place to live.

- The day of the funeral it was a box and a friend who caught my eyes. I ushered until the service was to begin then quickly found my place on the second row. It was standing room only, mostly because of Zack but also because of who was here. There were marvelous speeches by politicians and generals, and a perfectly heartfelt testimony from Zack’s good friend Joel, but my biggest memories came after the service. The first was when I went forward to examine the trophy box displaying Zack’s awards and decorations. Wow. He had served a tenth of my 26 years and yet he had more medals—medals of a greater order, the highly prized Bronze Star and a Purple Heart and six more. So impressive ... and so deserved. The other event took place almost an hour later. The room had emptied, all except the lone soldier guarding the flag-covered casket and someone else. The room was dark except where the spotlight lit the casket’s red, white and blue shroud, the soldier and the displays. But there near the coffin, at the edge of the shadow, Simon hunched staring at the scene. Perhaps Zack’s dearest friend, he sat there unable to move, unbelievably lost in this stark, undeniable truth. This strangely beautiful scene of a friend’s love and the reality of his loss, spoke far more eloquently than mere words ever will.

- The last memory is perhaps the most important and it stays with me every day. It is simply this: I never knew how much, just how much, I loved this family ... until this. They were always in my heart, sure, but now they are a fire. If everything else is forgotten, this one thing is worth remembering: we have a capacity for a love deeper than we know. It’s there. It only needs to be awakened, and it will only be awakened when we slow down and focus on others as God allows.

Friends, love your neighbor as yourself. Yes, indeed love him ... love him while you have the chance.


Father, thank You for these memories of love and loss, of heroes and death and life—the abundant life to which You lead us....

Friday, February 08, 2008

July 07


Feeling Sick?


He will yet fill your mouth with laughing, and your lips with rejoicing.

Job 8:21 (NKJV)


Ugh. Our house smells like some kind of hospital ward, so Kris had me light some candles. Yeah, it's been pretty grim around here, and it's not over yet. The sickness that wracked my body for four days now has a grip on my son Ryan. My heart goes out to him....

I guess being sick wasn’t all bad. There were two especially good experiences here, no, make that three or maybe more....

The first happened at the eight-hour point. This was when I could finally drink. The first sip of cool water on my parched lips was like heaven. The cool, clear liquid pooled on my tongue then splashed and swirled against the sides of my mouth. I treated it like the finest Bordeaux. I sipped and savored every mouthful. Within an hour though I switched from being a connoisseur of fine French wine to becoming the great American Gatorade guzzler ... hey, I was thirsty!

The second thing that blessed me was the opportunity to rest—wholeheartedly and unashamedly. To sleep without guilt, well without too much guilt. And have extra time to think. It was good—a sort of spiritual and mental pause for refreshment—even while being sick.

And finally? Yes, finally. I enjoyed the thought that things would get better, that there would be life after ... sickness.

I feel better now and that should help Ryan, I hope. Now it’s my turn to show the TLC I so relished. And if anyone else gets sick? I hope they’ll take comfort in these words, “He will yet fill your mouth with laughing....”


Father, heal Ryan. Keep my family well and lift our spirits. Amen.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

July 06


Distress Can Turn to Peace


For the glory of your name, O LORD, save me. In your righteousness, bring me out of this distress ... Show me where to walk for I have come to you in prayer ... Teach me to do your will for you are my God.


Psalm 143:11, 8, 10 (NLT)


The steadfast in mind You will keep in perfect peace, because he trusts in You.

Isaiah 26:3 (NAS)


I read David’s psalm and then I see Isaiah’s words. Wow. These guys are just like me. Well, at least we’ve shared some of the same feelings: distress, fear, hopelessness to be sure, but, then also, peace and confidence. In spite of the incredible stress they both experienced, they both enjoyed the peace of God.

This peace of God can be rediscovered within our own minds. When we adjust our thought life, when we shift our focus, the heart usually follows, and emotions can swing from positive to negative and back again. The thing is, the emotions aren’t necessarily wrong or bad ... it’s what we do with them, and the emotions that drag us down are also the warning flags telling us to raise our eyes. Look to God! Pray!

It is our minds that bring us back to God. They must. If the mind is not in control, emotions toss our lives toward shipwreck. So, for smooth sailing, for peace in this life, our minds must be steadfast, our internal compass pointing us straight and true. Straight to God—the trustworthy Captain of our souls.


Father, today I trust in You. Help me everyday to fix my eyes on You. Amen.

Monday, February 04, 2008

July 05


Hope


The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.


Romans 8:18 (NKJV)


I will put my trust in Him.

Hebrews 2:13 (NAS)


For some reason, I’ve been reading about Job lately. What an amazing man. He suffered so much and endured so long. His faith was absolutely amazing. He said, in spite of his incredible pain and anguish, “I know my Defender lives ... Even after my skin has been destroyed; in my flesh I will see God ... How my heart wants that to happen” (Job 19:25-27).

We may not suffer like Job, but all of us experience some kind of set back in this life, and God asks the same thing of us, “Trust Me.”

Missionary Helen Roseveare understood this lesson after a most horrible experience in the Congo. Years ago, during an uprising, Her faith was severely tested when she was assaulted, raped, and treated brutally. After reflection, this woman of faith commented, “I must ask myself a question as if it came directly from the Lord. ‘Can you thank Me for trusting you with this experience even if I never tell you why?’”

Wow. What an incredible thought and what deep faith in God’s ultimate good will. As I reflect on their words, both Job and Helen inspire me, and I’m sure, in spite of the limited and temporary suffering, our dream of eternity is more real and more powerful than our present struggle.

God has placed eternity in our hearts, and this is my dream. It has grown so big. It fills my mind and my heart ... these thoughts of heaven with friends and family and this shared joy with God. Paul had it right. His words to the Romans ring true. God has something better for us, and He gives us this hope ... if only we’ll trust in Him.


Father, give us this hope. We trust in You. Amen.