disciples rebuked those who brought them.” (Matthew 19:13)
January 29
ALL THE CHILDREN OF THE WORLD…
The time passed quickly that day, my first walk outside of the confines of a protective convoy in a village just south of Baghdad in early July, 2003. And our business finished, we were about to depart when a young boy appeared before me, standing quietly and looking up at me through large bright eyes. His red shirt was tattered and dirty, but his smile and his countenance were as untarnished as a cloudless sky. Another boy who had been harrying me for money and attention received a quick elbow to the ribs in the way that young boys do, and moved off to other interests.
Thus, this young child, a boy of perhaps ten years of age watched me for a moment before saying in strongly accented English, “Thank you for freedom.” “America, I thank you.” “Mr. Bush” he kissed his curled finger in a sign meaning prayer and blessing and lifted it upward. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied and held out my hand to shake his. He had a strong grip for a small child. For a moment we simply studied one another as smiles blossomed on our faces. He pointed to the nametag on my uniform, which had my English name written in Arabic script.
“Schlonek,” he said, curiously, not sure what to make of my name.
Apparently the seamstress had sewn the letters from left to right as we read them in English. He read right to left.
“Nichols,” I corrected him and patted my chest. He then pointed again to the insignia below my name and read off the English letters one by one.
“LT, CHC, USNR United States it means. You are of United States,” he said, grinning at his newfound comprehension.
He smiled broad and wide. “Yes,” I smiled in return, reminded of my four children and wife back at home.
Again he repeated, “Thank you for freedom.”
And then I am whisked away, my mind fogging with the images, the smells, the poverty, and yet some small tangible sense that hope has been seeded into the next generation. These children represent the future of Iraq. They will grow up remembering the great changes brought to their nation. I shall pray for that hope, and I shall pray for the Iraqi people.
Thank you for the precious gift of children and the hope you give through them and for them.
“But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” (Luke 18:16)
January 30
GREETINGS MARINES
Have you stopped recently to consider what it is that you’ve accomplished? I’m not certain if many of you have been able to witness new-born liberty, but just a few miles north of us, hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of people are experiencing what we take for granted every day for the very first time. Let me relate an experience shared with me only a few weeks ago. I’ll do my best to give the telling it’s due.
A corporal with Division had been on a routine soda run, and like other times, a small crowd of children gathered around to watch. As was his normal routine, the young marine offered candy to the delight of those gathering nearby. Upon completing his purchases, the marine turned to find an older Iraqi man standing before him holding a broken cross. Puzzled, the corporal asked if he needed some help, all the time mindful and somewhat intimidated by the growing numbers around them.
“I am a Christian,” said the man, holding up the broken cross, trying to connect with the young man. The marine smiled, nodded, and moved to the side to be on his way, but the man insisted in his broken English. “I am a Christian, you are American; I thank you.”
The marine turned, puzzled by the exchange, offered another smile. “I could probably fix that cross for you if you like,” he replied.
The older man smiled, clearly not understanding. “Never could I carry such a thing before, not in public, would kill me.” He made a distinct motion with his hand, crossing it over his throat. “You, American Marine, saved me, wife, and children.”
Again, the marine nodded. “You’re welcome,” he managed after a long pause. Then he turned, climbed back in his truck, and looked back one last time at the man.
“I pray for you… for Marines!” shouted the man over the din of the motor.
Then he lifted the cross and declared, “Freedom!”
Marines, no matter how tedious your tasks may seem, you have brought freedom to a people long oppressed, and their gratitude to you will last for generations. Perhaps you will never know exactly how it is that you have changed the lives of these people, but you have and continue to do so every day, with every flight hour, every shift, every turned bolt, every floor swept, every report printed. Few else can claim the same.
Eternal God, give us courage to labor as your servant people, healing broken people and rebuilding devastated communities, providing safety for the weak and hope to those who have none. Position us among the poor with words and deeds of freedom.
“A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor.” (Proverbs 22:9)
January 31
WHEN HE WAKES UP
After a convoy on a reconnaissance mission was ambushed, the injured soldiers came to the emergency medical unit in Baghdad where Dashner was serving as an Air Force chaplain. Chaplain Janis Dashner wrote in her journal about the night of December 4, 2003: “Dr. K did all he could to save Bruce’s leg but it was too badly damaged. Only a few hours have passed and he is already on the plane heading for Germany.”
Bruce’s platoon Sergeant, Tommy, was also injured. He had several shrapnel wounds in his legs plus three gunshot wounds one in his upper arm and two in his chest. Unlike Bruce, he was stable enough to wait until the next day for an airlift to the United States military hospital in Germany. Dashner quickly realized that Tommy was more concerned about Bruce than himself.
“Tommy is extremely worried about Bruce’s ability to cope with the loss of his leg. Bruce was orphaned at age seven, grew up in foster homes, doesn’t have a girl friend, and makes friends with great difficulty. He considers the Army unit he is assigned to as his family. Tommy told me that Bruce begged him while they were on the side of the road not to let ‘them’ which is actually ‘us’ take his leg off. He said he would rather die than to have that
