Not long after we established our Combat Outpost in the Helmand river valley of Afghanistan, one of the Humvees assigned to a supporting Combined Anti-Armor Team struck an Improvised Explosive Device.

Two Marines were immediately KIA and the medevac picked up a double and triple amputee.  Sadly, word got back to us that both eventually succumb to their wounds and died. As the months went by we lost more guys.  A few good friends of mine were killed in neighboring AOs. You could feel it, there was something missing.  Despite how bright the sun, it seemed darker every day.  Feet that once bounded over canals simply trudged through.  Eyes bright with freedom grew dull with the futility of a fight that couldn’t be won.  The sharp wit had been worn down by the ever-blowing sand.  Yesterday the young machine gunner patrolled with purpose, today his shell is being flown away. Another day, another man.

It’s a struggle through the cotton field, the plants entangling and holding us back. Finally free, the world erupts, the quiet shattered by an explosion and the crackle of machine gun fire. After wading through the canal as we headed toward the corn field on the other side, a round struck a tree between me and my team mate.

We hit the ground and began to crawl forward to join the rest of the patrol.  It was slow going through the corn. Several explosions later the gun fire slowed and we could hear radio traffic.  The squad leader was injured and medevac inbound.  We shifted to the south and set the perimeter. In the distance, growing closer, we could hear the Sergeant screaming at the guys carrying him toward the LZ, “My leg! Pick up my FUCKING LEG!” Between grunts of pain, the phrase was repeated in his southern accent.  The Blackhawk came and went.

At the tree line we regrouped between the fields; the last to join us were the snipers who covered the exfiltration.  I looked around at the guys- eyes hollow, sweaty faces caked with silt, expressionless or still locked in rage- and one of the new interpreters lying in the wadi, shaking.  This was his first patrol and he still had what we lacked- HOPE.  Hope makes you think about things the way they could be, should be.  It keeps you connected to the positive in life, a distraction which could cause deadly hesitation.  To properly do your job, mission accomplishment is held in higher regard than your life.  It’s easier to acknowledge you are already dead than to try and stay alive.

The dead do not require hope.

Time dragged on but then one day our replacements arrived.  The burden was being passed on.  It took time, but it slowly returned- Hope, or at least something that looked like it.  Finally, there was the possibility we might make it out alive.

There are different facets of hope and depths to each one.  Some of us make it back but still despair.  Others fake fine and look hopeful while they die inside because the hope never returned.

I find myself in this bottomless pit, a black hole.  I look up but can’t see the light, is there a way out?  No loving God would let these things happen. Why did they all die and for what?!  The questions swirl around like a vortex pulling down inescapably. If you believe there is no reason why things happen then you’re doomed to be lost in a sea of chance. If you believe EVERYTHING happens for a reason you draw conclusions that lead to twisted thinking. The truth is we may never know WHY somethings happen.

The devil wants you to believe that God is powerless, doesn’t exist or doesn’t care, and this life is ALL there is (the YOLO concept).  First, Earth is not heaven.  It was not designed to be- if it was I would have no hope because things here are FUBAR.  The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 4:4 “Satan, who is the god of this world (earth), has blinded the minds of those who don’t believe. They are unable to see the glorious light of the Good News…”  If you can’t see the light you will always be in darkness (having no hope).  No amount of drinking, drugs, sex, or any type of adrenaline high we might seek will ever bring us into the light and give us real hope.

A hope for eternity.

Many of us can’t forgive ourselves for the things we’ve done or failed to do.  In talking to many Vets, they take on guilt for things they had no control over. A Friend lost becomes depression gained. The VA can’t forgive you, a ghost/spirit can’t, even the pastor, priest, or rabbi can’t forgive you.  There is hope in forgiveness through Jesus.  Hope can be a matter of perspective- I’m talking about having a heavenly view of your earthly suffering.  I heard someone recently say that without Jesus your suffering is meaningless.  Reflection on this brought me back to perspective.  I see now every event in my life has brought greater understanding and appreciation for God, Jesus and HIS sacrifices on the spiritual battlefield.  My hope lies in eternity because I sure didn’t find it at the bottom of a bottle or on the battlefield.

King David was a combat veteran of many wars.  He suffered greatly from PTSD and if you read the book of Psalms you will encounter many times he talks about the things that torment him and the trouble in his soul.  I would like to share with you now a chapter from that book.  In the beginning he reminds me of how I felt when I came back from Afghanistan.  As he writes, you see the progression of his life and his understanding that his hope lies in God alone.  It’s why David was called “a man after God’s own heart.” Despite all the seriously screwed up things he had done (laws broken, murder of men, women, and children, adultery) he found forgiveness knowing that God alone was his only salvation and he was worthless without the Creator.  If only we could grasp such clarity… but he spent many years hiding and running before he found it. The words in red I’ve added as I identify with David in this chapter.

OVER,

Psalm 143 A psalm of David- Hear my prayer, O Lord; listen to my plea! Answer me because you are faithful and righteous. Don’t put your servant on trial, for no one is innocent before you. I made some choices I wish you hadn’t seen. My enemy has chased me. He has knocked me to the ground and forces me to live in darkness like those in the grave. Why didn’t you let me die with my friends?! Instead of being remembered as a warrior I feel like a prisoner, buried in the graveyard of my mind. I am losing all hope; I am paralyzed with fear. I remember the days of old. Let me fight once more, deploy again, it seems I only feel peace when I’m at war. I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done.  I lift my hands to you in prayer. I thirst for you as parched land thirsts for rain. Come quickly, Lord, and answer me, for my depression deepens. Don’t turn away from me, or I will die. God, I’m loosing it- help me, kill me, or I’ll try to kill myself. Let me hear of your unfailing love each morning, for I am trusting you. Show me where to walk, for I give myself to you. Okay God, you’re all I’ve got left so how do I pick up the pieces? Rescue me from my enemies, Lord; I run to you to hide me. Teach me to do your will, for you are my God. May your gracious Spirit lead me forward on a firm footing. For the glory of your name, O Lord, preserve my life. Help me keep it together. Because of your faithfulness, bring me out of this distress. In your unfailing love, silence all my enemies My guilt, shame, my accusers… and destroy all my foes, Like the devil and everyone trying to keep me doing the same things over and over for I am your servant.

OUT.