from enemies foreign and domestic, takes on harsh new reality.
I follow in the steps of far greater men men and women sent from these shores to carry freedom’s torch to places where liberty’s light wanes dim. And when I return, I will bear a title I shall cherish more than any other I have yet attained: United States Veteran.
I suppose it is the right of those afforded such honor to offer a departing word, and if not, your forbearance is requested. You should know that we who go, and those who’ve gone before, are ordinary people. We do not share a single color of skin, an ethnic origin, or a common creed save that of leaving no fallen behind.
Beneath each helmet and uniform stands a brother, a sister, a father, a mother, a son, a daughter, or a friend. As a chaplain, I have shared in their common stories and walked beyond the thin line of bravado to see the human being beneath. But though these are ordinary people, they are not common. In my experience, I have seen no hereditary trait that presupposes a person toward bravery. And these are courageous people, not for staring death in the face, but for embracing duty when called and struggling forward against all odds for the sake of a few intangible values. Values such as liberty and human dignity, values without which life on earth would bear no worth at all.
I know that all of you will strive with diligence and dignity in your various tasks. There is but one thing I would request before trading my coat and tie for boots and a pack: honor the veterans among you and among the people you serve. Honor them not simply with a smile or a clap on the back, but with sensible policy and mindful execution of your duties. The cost of service to country is often very high and with lasting consequences for those who go and loved ones who remain.
I wish all of you tremendous success and look forward with hope to the privilege of serving with you again.
Thank you for those veterans who have served this nation.
“You will increase my honor and comfort me once again.” (Psalm 71:21)
January 27
KEEP IT SIMPLE
Jesus of Nazareth understood people, and he certainly understood me very well: I need things to be plain and simple. Mind you, this doesn’t make a person any less of an intellectual. Indeed, many intellectuals have a suspicious habit of convoluting their discussion with wise sounding phrases and fancy words.
But there is a difference between polish and power.
We in this Navy and Marine Corps team have our moments of polish and shine; but not without having earned it first. Indeed, there is something to be said for our shared habit of being succinct that surpasses concepts like efficiency and finds itself rooted in the example set by Jesus so many centuries ago.
That is the difference between polish and power.
Think back, if you will, to the days preceding your coming here, preceding the war. Apart from the jitter in your gut, most likely there was a sense of tradition, of history, of feeling part of something larger than yourself. If I’m wrong just try to follow me, but I’m thinking many of you had visions of yourselves accomplishing heroic deeds and winning much acclaim for family, God, country, and corps for the majority of Marines out there.
Those imaginings were not based upon arrogant presumptions. They were based upon discipline, training, and courage all enhanced by experience. My guess is, you weren’t thinking about accomplishing whatever tasks might be set before you using complex formulas or grand schemes.
You kept it plain and simple.
Pilots would fly. Gunners would shoot. Mechanics would fix. Docs would heal. All of the years of training, dreaming, sweating, studying, thinking, hoping, and praying were summarized with the same succinct, but informed assurance with which Jesus answered those who questioned him.
When you know what you are about, when you know where you are from, when you take hold of those virtues which are greater than yourself, when you focus your abilities upon the task at hand, and act, THEN regardless of your success you surpass the impotent polish of childishness and begin to live in the power that springs from maturity.
All of you have grown through this experience and will continue to grow and mature as this mission presses forward. Not because of polish, but because of perseverance.
Continue to keep it simple Marines and Sailors, by handling one task at a time and one day as it comes to you. Let us, together, weave yet another red stripe on Old Glory.
Eternal God, thank you for the simplicity of handling life one day at a time. Amen
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37–40)
January 28
JESUS LOVES THE LITTLE CHILDREN…
It was late June, 2003, my first opportunity to walk among the people of Iraq. The children especially swarmed around our small group as we made our way through the ancient pathways of a small village just south of Babylon. Dark haired, bright-eyed faces swarmed all around, waving, clapping, and sticking their hands out for a handshake, and it was all accompanied by little voices vying for attention.
“Meestar meestar!” was the frequent call that came to my ear. Perhaps it was my six-foot-five frame, or that I was wearing the garb of a chaplain a different uniform than those with whom I traveled, but it was more than likely the fact that I was not carrying a weapon of any kind. A few begged, for money, some begged for food, or for shoes to wear on their calloused feet as they jogged along the hot tile-paved alleyways. But more than that they wanted to be around the excitement and to be touched by these strangers in their midst.
My gaze shifted frequently from this boisterous throng to the adults, who paused in their shops or as they traveled, staring at us in uncomfortable silence. Yet, many of these offered a smile and a wave, likely those who had returned to gainful employment.
One thought still echoes through my mind as I reflect upon that experience. For many of these children, their first memory of life will be clapping and cheering for American soldiers as endless convoys drive past their agrarian homes. I wonder what their next memory will be. I hope it will be one of freedom, of joy, of hope.
As people of faith, ours is the burden, not only to hope for good, but to do it. Likewise, as heirs to a heavenly and eternal inheritance, as children of the living God, it is not enough for us to speak of prayer and how prayer changes lives. We are to be people of prayer, people who communicate with the Creator and Redeemer of all people.
Thank you for prayer and the privilege to pray for others around the world.
“Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the
