The night
before I was going to drive home, Matt called to find out how I was. But before I could tell him all the wonderful
things I had learned, I noticed the tone in his voice. He sounded exhausted! When I asked him if he was okay, he said it
had been a long day. I was surprised to
hear this as it was a Saturday. I had
thought he had been at home all day playing computer games or watching movies. As he elaborated, he told me that one of his
soldiers had gotten in a car accident the night before and was in the
hospital. He explained that he had been
at either the office or the hospital all day long. He hadn’t even had time to eat! He said the soldier was in ICU, and they
weren’t sure he was going to make it. I
told him I would be praying and would be home early the next day. He said if he wasn’t at home when I got there
to call his cell phone to find out where he was.
When
I returned home from Atlanta the following day, Matt was there but in
uniform. As it was a Sunday, I was
surprised to see this. He looked just as
tired as he sounded on the phone. He
told me he was going to have to go back to the hospital that night because the
soldier’s parents were flying in from California. I asked if I could come with him, and Matt
was more than happy to have some company.
Due
to the soldier’s critical condition, he had been taken to a civilian hospital
in downtown Savannah. It took us almost
an hour to get there from post. When we
got to the waiting room, several of Matt’s other soldiers and their wives were
there. No one looked rested or at peace.
Matt
had previously informed me that many of these soldiers had had a party the
night of the accident. While there had
been drinking involved, the soldier who hosted the party assured Matt that his
friend had been sober before he left his house.
The police had tested his blood for alcohol but said the results would
take several days. Meanwhile, he was in
ICU with increased intracranial pressure, and his friends waited with
grief-stricken faces and feelings of guilt for letting him leave. As my eyes moved from face to face, I felt
inadequate and unprepared to comfort them.
When
the soldier’s parents arrived, Matt briefed them on the situation, took them
back to see their son, and waited with them while the doctor explained the
prognosis. I stayed back in the waiting
room, silently praying and asking God to show me what to do – how to help.
Once
the parents came back out, I hugged them and told them how sorry I was. They met the rest of the platoon and
expressed gratitude for all the support.
Matt told them that the Army had paid for them to stay in a hotel nearby
and would take them there when they were ready.
They wanted to stay a few more hours so Matt and I waited with them,
until they were ready to go.
As
we waited I tried to find out if they knew the Lord. Through our conversation, I discovered that
they had some basic knowledge of God but did not seem to truly know Him. I prayed inwardly that somehow Matt and I
would be a witness to them. After taking
them to their hotel for the night, Matt and I went home and promised to come
back tomorrow. When I realized that
their hotel was not close enough to the hospital that they could walk to it, I
asked Matt if we could loan them my car since it was the summer and I didn’t
need it. He said we should think and
pray about it that night and decide when we went back.
The
next day Matt had to go into the office for a bit to work on reports and brief
the commanders in the battalion on the soldier’s condition. Later in the day, he came home and said we
could take two cars to the hospital so we could leave mine with the soldier’s
family. I also brought along my book of
Scripture promises in case the Lord prompted me to give it to them.
As
soon as we arrived, Matt checked with the doctor about the soldier’s
condition. I spoke with the parents and
asked how they were holding up.
Intermittent tears told me they were doing as good as could be
expected. Matt came back out and joined
the conversation, asking if they were okay at the hotel and if we could do
anything to help. The doctor had said
the soldier was doing better but we would know more in the next few days. We reassured the parents that we were praying
for their son and for them. Then we told
them we would like for them to use my car while they were here so they wouldn’t
have to rely on others to get around.
The smiles on their faces and the hugs they gave me were the only thanks
I needed. I instantly knew we had done
the right thing and God would use this.
On
the way home, Matt told me more of the soldier’s background. While they had been deployed, his wife
cheated on him. He was very distraught
having just found this out. Only a few
weeks before the car accident, he had brandished a gun and, although not
suicidal, he was obviously emotionally unstable. Additionally, Matt was worried
that alcohol was contributing to his problems. My husband was not altogether
certain this car wreck wasn’t a failed suicide attempt.
My
heart broke yet again for this poor twenty year old. Here he had been to war and back, but
injuries sustained from the results of a broken heart were threatening his
life. Not bullets, not RPGs, not even
IEDs were the impetus behind his afflictions.
No, it was an unfaithful wife and unstable emotions that brought him to
the brink of death.The more I heard about the situation, the more upset I got. In spite of the Army’s ability to prosecute adultery, this case could not be proved. In addition, the soldier had not told his parents about the infidelity, which meant they still thought of her as their daughter. Meanwhile Matt was working behind the scene to ensure that the soldier’s life insurance (should it come to that) would not go to his wife. Unfortunately, he could not change what the soldier had put down on paper.
So not only had this woman defiled her marriage, she was probably going to gain financially from it as well. I was livid! However, I soon found out I was not the only one feeling this way. The rest of the platoon was furious, having listened to their friend anguish over her. The day she came in to visit him at the hospital was a day filled with tension and hatred. Matt had to quickly step in and remove some of his platoon from the waiting room, ordering them not to express their feelings towards her since the specialist’s parents still did not know.
During
this time, I tried to keep the parents distracted from the other members of the
platoon. I engaged them in conversation
about their home in California and their other children. Thankfully, they were willing to share and
eager to have a listening ear. Soon, as
a result of my wise husband’s leadership, the tense situation dissolved.
The
next day, the specialist’s condition worsened, and the doctors were not sure he
was going to survive. Matt and I rushed
back to the hospital. The soldier’s
parents were visibly shaken and upset. I
sat with them and held the mom’s hand while Matt went back to speak to the
doctor. When he came back out, his faced
was pale and he said he needed to make a call.
Not much later, a chaplain came to speak to the family and prepare them
for the worst. A few hours later, the
soldier did not improve or worsen so the parents decided they would go back to
their hotel to sleep. It was at this
moment, I felt the Holy Spirit tug on my heart to pass the book of Scripture
promises on to the parents. Even though
I knew they didn’t have a personal relationship with the Lord, I knew the Bible
could comfort better than any words we could offer.During that night, Matt got the call that his soldier had died. While my heart grieved for his family, a part of me was relieved that it was over. Unfortunately, the days preceding the memorial service were just as stressful and required still careful maneuvering as the soldier’s widow became more visible and demanding. Casualty Assistance took over more control at this point, but Matt and I were still heavily involved.
The day of the memorial service, Matt told me he would have to sit up front with the family. He urged me to come a little early so I could find a seat. When I arrived, I was surprised to see the chapel so full already. I managed to find a seat and began to look around. At the front stood the soldier’s boots and rifle with his helmet placed on top. As the family processed in, I watched in horror as the “widow” trailed behind her in-laws playing the part of a grieving wife and treated as though she was to be pitied above everyone else. Yet I quickly realized I had to put aside my personal feelings and be available for this family, as well as the hurting members of the platoon, with whom I sat.
If
you have never been to a soldier’s memorial service, there is no possible way
you can understand the raw pain that thickens the air. Although I had been to a few as a child, not
even that could prepare me for this service.
Standing there within the ranks of grown men and women, in uniform – men
and women who had stared death in the face in the deserts of Iraq – as they
break down over the loss of one of their own, my eyes filled with tears and my
heart sunk with other’s pain.
When
I thought it couldn’t get any more painful, the platoon sergeant began “roll
call.” First, he called the name of a
few soldiers who alphabetically preceded the deceased. They all responded with, “Here,
Sergeant.” Then he called the
specialist’s last name. When there was
no response, he called his rank and last name.
Again, no response – the quiet was desperate around us. Finally, he called the rank and full name of
the dead soldier. All around me, people
shook with sobs and the sound of sniffling was heart-wrenching. Outside, the rifles sounded their farewell,
and somber guests bowed their heads for a closing prayer.
Pulling
ourselves together, we made our way through the receiving line to pass on our
condolences and words of comfort. When
my turn came, the parents hugged me tightly, communicating what words could not
express. I again told them how sorry I
was and promised to pray for them fervently.
I walked outside to
wait for Matt, watching others grieve, again feeling inadequate to
comfort. Matt came a while later, took
my hand, and told me we would take the parents to the airport in the morning,
but for now, he needed to go back to work to finish up some things.
I went home and
questioned whether I had done all I could do for this family and the families
of the platoon. I asked God why this had
to happen, why the wife seemed to get away with her lascivious and greedy
actions. I asked God if I should have
spoken more bold words of witness.
Instead of an audible answer, I just felt a peace.
The next morning, Matt
and I met the parents at their hotel where I got my car back. We then took them to the airport and hugged
them tightly. The mother handed me a
letter and made me promise if we ever wanted to come visit, we would let them
know. We said our goodbyes and drove
home.
In the mother’s letter,
she thanked me for the book of Bible promises, saying it helped her through the
worst pain. She thanked me for letting
them use my car, and for sitting with them in the hospital. She said Matt and I were like angels to her
and she would never forget how we helped them through a tragic moment in their
lives.
When
I finished reading it, I smiled up at God and thanked Him for using me, and
asked Him to do it again…
You
never know when or how God is going to ask you to serve Him. It may not look the way you thought it would,
but it will always end the way He wanted.
We just have to be sensitive to those tugs He makes on our heart and be
obedient to follow through. Then we will
get a glimpse of how to truly bring Him glory.
2 comments:
You are amazing! Love, Mom
Your faith and love pour out from this page. Thank you, Lord, for such a powerful witness! Debbie Thomas
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