Dear Soldier,

My son, Brady, is a college student who just returned from a canoe trip in the Boundary Waters National Park up on the border of Canada and Minnesota. He was gone nine days. When I asked if he'd had a good time he paused. "No. But I'm glad I did it."

There had been good times. There were friendships were built, times of reflection and learning, quiet times of deep peace and spiritual growth. But overall, it was hard work and much to endure surviving in the wilderness, paddling across lakes, portaging through the forest with gear, waiting out the rains. He is grateful for the experience and would even gladly go again. But it was not fun. He made sacrifices and that grew him up some.

It was only a short time and compared to what many of you are enduring it is not comparable... but in some small way I think it is. When you come home you can feel proud. You can feel stronger. You will have changed and, if you let it, you can use what you have learned, what you have endured to be a better person. You can become a kinder, more tolerant person, one who searches and finds the good in any situation.

God has a hand in everything. He doesn't make the horrible situations we find ourselves in but he is there. He will use it to make something better. We may never understand what it is but we can live gratefully knowing that God is there.

Dear Soldier,

Memorial Day. I do not want to be that person who only cares now and then. Today I found some addresses to write to soldiers and I will start doing that again. When you know someone in the thick of battle, in harm's way, it stays close to you. It stays real. It's always close to the surface of one's reality even when not consciously thinking about it. I've fallen away from that kind of thought but I need to bring it closer than just an occasional blurb on the news.

My friend, Austin, was in the Marines and did 3 tours in Iraq. Austin went through the horror of an ambush where several in his unit were killed, including his commanding officer. He also experienced a bullet ricocheting around inside his humvee, constant bombardments to his base to name a few of the things I know of. One doesn't really ever get over that sort of thing. When he finally returned for good he wanted something to remember his 6 lost brothers. He had an idea for a tattoo and asked me to design it for him. I did.

Austin still struggles with PSD and nightmares and other issues that often go hand in hand with that. The good news for you guys out there is that he has met a woman who is willing to stick by him on the journey and he is getting married this fall.

There is life after war. Believe in yourself. Believe that God will stand by you always and help you. When you are knocked down, he'll pick you up or send someone to help you get up.

Pray for it and then watch for it.

Blessings to all and thank you, my friends, for your incredible sacrifice

Dear Warrior,

So…Love came down at Christmas and that is the
true gift of God. It is my wish that in
the middle of war you are
cherishing every person you love and

telling them so. It is my wish that you are
valuing every moment you have on this earth,
not taking any one or anything
for granted. It is my wish that you are able to

find joy in the small comforts in a hard world, that you will
recognize beauty in a harsh environment,
find Love in the small gestures of those around you today and
see God in the every face. It is my wish that you will

thank God for every small miracle and that you
will take the time to
see them for the gifts they are. It is my wish that you will
seek God’s forgiveness and

experience the Joy you will find in that
freely given, yet undeserved gift. It is my wish that you will
pass along that forgiveness to others and to yourself and
experience the Peace that comes with doing that.

God bless you and Godspeed.

Dear Marine

It’s not yet Thanksgiving and yet here I go sending you wishes for Christmas! Maybe that will help me to keep things in perspective before I get caught up in the materialism of the secular Christmas that is so prevalent here in the States.

I do wish you a Merry Christmas! I know that it is possible to have a beautiful Christmas wherever you may be if you keep the true meaning of Christmas in your heart. Forget about the gifts and glitz and Santas and snowmen and tinsel and trees for a few minutes.. Remember that ancient of sayings? “All that glitters is not gold.” You may be in a much better place for keeping Christmas “right” than we are here.

We are so bombarded by ads and commercials and billboards and shopping….we forget to remember. Jesus was born in a dusty, lonely stable, probably smelling of hay and animals..…not a bad thing but definitely not high and mighty or glorious. He wasn’t born to rich folks but a carpenter and his young wife. Just common people, not chosen for this honor because of their knowledge or status or their wealth but because of their uncommon and incredible faith in our God and love for him.

Can you imagine what awesome faith Mary must have had to know what she would have to endure as an unwed mother back then? What would people think?!!! She was betrothed to Joseph but would he believe that she was still a virgin and carrying God’s child? Joseph had the “right” to have her punished for infidelity or at the least, he would be expected to divorce her and leave her abandoned.

God made sure Joseph understood that Mary was “conceived in the Holy Spirit” and all was good with her. So he stayed with Mary, that left him in a position of ridicule, too. What would people think? Folks surely believed that Mary was either unfaithful to Joseph or that he and Mary had conceived a son together before their marriage…both big ol’ No-No’s back then. (Oh, yeah, they still are!…we forget.)

Wow! What amazing faith and trust in God those two had! Anyway, back to Christmas night. Mary riding a donkey while in labor! (I wasn’t sure I would survive the 30 minute trip in the car on the way to the hospital when I was in labor!) At the point when they discovered the stable Mary must have been grateful just for a soft place to lie down! We take our cushy lives so for granted. I’ll bet you don’t take your simple bunk for granted, after having slept on tarmac and in foxholes and in mud and dust.

So…there you are in Iraq at Christmas. So very far from those you love and all that is a normal Christmas. My prayer for you is that you will recognize the gift of God sending his son to us so that we could really understand how to love God … So we wouldn‘t get so sidetracked by all the worldly “rules“ … So we would have a perfect example to follow… So that our sins would be forever forgiven… So we would love one another.

Oh, how very short we fall of all that! It amazes me how he just keeps on forgiving us. Every day I wake up in the morning and thank God for another day, another chance to get it right. Then I try but I get sidetracked and distracted by the world in front of me and my own selfish desires. Stumbling about, tripping and falling and there, always, is God’s hand willing to pull me back up and guide me back onto his path one more time. Do you every feel like that?

Sometimes I feel like I spend so much time shopping, making sure my loved ones aren’t around to see the many and expensive gifts I have purchased for them. that I spend little time with them. I am too busy! Spending $ instead of time.

Sometimes I feel like I plan every minute of December trying to fit in the parties (with coworkers, with acquaintances, with friends, with family) and the events ( Christmas concerts & programs, Big Sales & shopping days, Tree Lightings and Santa-seeing) that Ihave no time left to relax with the friends, with family, with God. I am too busy. Spending time running around instead of paying attention.

Sometimes I feel like I pay so much attention to what is expected of me, by family, friends, society, and the world that I forget what God expects of me. I am so busy giving my heart to the Christmas Machine that I forget to give it to God.


So Marine, as I pray for your safety and that you keep hope and love in your heart with your simplified version of Christmas, maybe you could pray for me, too, that I might find God in the middle of my hectic Christmas season. That I could put Jesus back in the center of, not just Christmas, but my whole life.

Dear Marine

Can't sleep. They're getting better at killing you, better at targeting you, better at penetrating your armor. I feel sickened thinking of you over there with only the protection of your own wits and intuition...and God.

They're getting desperate. You are starting to take a toll on them and block them from coming in and, maybe, just maybe, the Iraqi people are allowing themselves to see some hope, some light at the end of the tunnel. So they, those insurgents, those people that do not have Iraq's best interest at heart, they have become desperate. But in their desperation, it appears, that they have also become more aggressive.

Have they been watching the idiots on the news over here? The well-meaning, the misguided and the just plain spotlight-seeking protestors carrying signs of varying degrees of hurtful words. Do they know that what they see on TV is not America? Do they know that our media doesn't cover the every-day thoughts of we the people, but only the weird and the different make the news? Hello! That's not what's going on over here! The media hasn't done a survey that shows that every 3rd vehicle driving down the road has a yellow ribbon supporting you.

I HATE THE WAR! I want you home. I want you safe. I want you to be able to sit on the porch swing and watch the neighbor kids ride their bikes up and down the streets, laughing. I want you to walk out into the pasture, up over the hill and watch the sunset, I want you to sleep til noon on Saturday morning, I want you to wrap your arms around every person you love and tell them so, right into their teary eyes. But... you are there and you are doing what needs to be done for those that cannot, will not, don't know how, don't even know that they should... like a father that goes to work every day even when his children beg him to stay home and be play with them. If only he could, but he knows what they don't understand. So... I hate the war. I hate that our world has wicked and evil people that must be forced into submission. Ah, but there it is. Someone has to have the balls to do it.

Marine, you are a true patriot. I know that you sometimes, when the bullets are flying around your head, forget why you signed up. I know that there are times, when you have leaned over the body of your best friend and cried, when it didn't seem worth it. I know there are times, when you remember your mom's tears and your girlfriend's arms around you, that wish you could be home to comfort them. I know that in the quiet moments, as you were driving the humvee back to base heavy with the bodies of those that were killed by the IED, you wonder where God is.

My dear Marine, God is listening to your prayers and the millions and millions of prayers of those praying for you. He is among you , by your side and with you at all times. He feels your tears and is crying with you. He sees your hate. He knows what you have done and why you did it and he forgives you and only asks that you start over every day and try again. He loves you through it all. When you give up on him he is still right there with you, loving you. Can't you feel it?

They are getting desperate...they can see the tide turning toward you...can you feel it, too?

Dear Marine

It's September here in Missouri, still hot but with a hint of Autumn in the air today. I walked out to get the mail this afternoon and couldn't resist the hammock in the shade of the peach tree on the trip back to the house. I laid across it, just for a few minutes, as I sorted through today's bills and flyers. There was a sweet thank you note from a friend who had left for college for the first time only 3 weeks ago. I recognized her big round letters and smiled before I even opened it, knowing that the small package I had sent had brought a tiny moment of joy into her exciting, new and homesick world. Then my thoughts turned to you, my faraway friend.

I remember the first time you went off to Iraq. You had no idea what to expect. I barely knew you then except through your mom. She was so upset when you enlisted but she also recognized that you had been having difficulty finding your place in life and prayed that the Marines would fill the hunger in you. You were so young and fresh and eager then.

I talked to your mom for a long time the other night. She didn't cry this time. You have just deployed for your third tour of Iraq. The fear inside her still fills her up for she, too, has lost her innocence. But she has had to learn to trust you and your instincts and your comrades... and God. There were times when I didn't think she would survive Iraq but she is a survivor. You get that from her.

As I lay in the hammock with that hint of late summer in the air...a few lone cicadas buzzing their constant circular song with a gentle breeze rustling the pages in my lap, I remember that you are over there. I send up a silent prayer, as I do every time you cross my mind, and wonder how you are faring. Your mom told me how, when you phoned last week, you told her about the new guys who jumped at the sound of mortars each time and were astounded at you guys who never even flinched. She chuckled.

Once upon a time the mortars frightened you something awful but you learned that most of them don't hit anyone. One time one hit right near you and your buddy and you never even blinked, you'd become so accustomed to them and perhaps to death, too, by then. But then you realized after that your hands were shaking. Yes, Marine, you are still alive, amazingly and gratefully, still alive.

So, you are probably one of the old men in your platoon this time, at 22 isn't it? Respected for your battle scars perhaps, even though they can't be seen. Are you able to sleep yet, friend? Do the nightmares still come? Can you put them aside and rest? Can you be a leader and a role model to these young men that look up to you and teach them the battle skills that they will need to survive the horror you will see out there?

The weight is heavy. I know that most of your buddies didn't survive the 2nd tour. I know that some of those that did are out now and that it was hard for you to see them escape, even as you rejoiced for them. I know that the memories haunt you. But I also know how strong you have become and how beautiful you still are. When you get through this next journey you will have learned some things that some people, most people, never know.

You will know how to rejoice in every day and in every person around you for you know how fragile life is. You won't take anything or anyone for granted the way the rest of us often do. You will have learned that human beings are capable of things that we can't imagine, both great and horrible. You will know that one can survive anything as long as there is hope. You will learn to hope again. You will learn to push aside the most awful of things your memory tries to show you but you will retain it in the back your mind to make you into a kinder more aware person. You will have learned to trust God in all things and give your burdens to him.

It was a beautiful day here. My prayer for you today is that you find a small piece of beauty there and share it with someone else.

Go with God.