Dashner understood the realities of the battlefield, the danger of injury and death. Yet she also knew the blessing the power of God to transform hearts in the midst of war.
“Miracles abound here. Our base has been hit three times by missiles in the last two weeks and we experienced a ground attack the night after the announcement that Saddam was captured. Even still we have been safe and there is a feeling of security. In this austere setting, not too many complain about the long hours, port-a- potties and bad food,” she noted.
“Everywhere there is an eagerness to bring hope and peace to this troubled, troubled land. Just when I am tempted to question the reason I am called to do this, I find a young person reaching for my hand and thanking me for a simple prayer and I am humbled by their faith.” Dashner concluded her letter with a request. “During this Christmas season I ask you to pray for Peace that it might be real and swift in coming to this land and to the world,” adding “with Christmas Hope.”
Father, I pray for peace in the world’s most troubled places today. I pray encouragement for those who are serving in our military in far away lands, who need comfort and strength.
“This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:12)
December 27
NIGHT JUMP
March 26, 2003. It was the dead of night, but sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. The war in Iraq officially began just days ago, and my brigade and I were sitting at the airfield in Aviano, Italy, rigging up our rucksacks, preparing for a night jump. We were to open up the northern front.
It would be my first night jump. Rehearsing all the possibilities the next few hours held, I was scared out of my mind.
I suddenly remembered an elder from our church base saying once read Psalm 91, the soldier’s psalm. He was a Viet Nam veteran and had told us that this psalm had gotten him through the war.
So as I’m sitting on my rucksack, waiting for time to go by, I must have read Psalm 91 a hundred times. Verses five and six stated, “You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness…”
What does that mean to me? I wondered. Then it hit me. It seemed to tell me, Do not fear what you’re about it do, because you’re going to be the terror of the night, and when day comes, you will be the arrow that flies by day. So what do you have to fear?
After that, this unbelievable calmness came over me. It’s like God was sitting next to me saying, It’s going to be alright.
The previous ten jumps had always made me so nervous that I couldn’t eat beforehand, consequently I was quite weak. This time though, I was able to eat right before the jump, and I even slept on the plane. When it was almost time to jump, I saw in the faces of the men around me the fear that I once had. But now I had overwhelming confidence that God was going to be there no matter what. God laid his hand on me and I knew it. I didn’t see him, but he calmed my fears just like he calmed the Sea of Galilee with the disciples.
Lord, when I am afraid, calm my heart like you calmed the seas.
“He replied, ‘You of little faith, why are you so afraid?’ Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.” (Matthew 8:26)
December 28
GRENADE ATTACK
Staff Sgt. Christopher Taffoya, U.S. Army, Iraq (2003–2004)
In an instant, everything seemed to stop. I couldn’t hear a thing. Dazed, I looked around and tried to make sense of the silent, bloody scene of confusion around me.
We had been on a foot patrol when an explosion from a grenade attack interrupted our progress. After walking another thirty yards, I looked down and saw that I was walking strangely. The blood on my leg was my own, after all.
Yep, I’ve been hit, was the thought that crossed my mind. For some reason I was about as concerned as I would have been if I had realized I was bleeding from a paper cut. I knew I would be okay, that God hadn’t left my side.
I was taken out of battle at that point and went through five surgeries to remove shrapnel in my calf, ankle, and feet. I couldn’t walk for at least a month since both feet were damaged, but I eventually healed up and talked the doctors into letting me go back into battle before they were planning to release me.
I returned to my guys and was back in the battle on Thanksgiving 2003. It was awesome. While nobody said it out loud, everyone was thankful on that day that I was back. That’s where I belonged. I’m thankful for each little thing that happened in my life in Iraq. As I look back over it, I see where God had his hand. The grenade landed a foot and half from my feet. I’m still here today if that’s not a miracle I don’t know what is.
Sometimes on our spiritual battlefield, we get wounded and end up not wanting to go back into battle, but we have to. We must allow our wounds to heal up with the help of others and get back where we belong wherever it is that God has placed us.
Lord, give me the strength and courage I need to honor you in all my circumstances.
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)
December 29
OUTNUMBERED
Kirkuk, the city in Iraq we were to take control of, was not just any city. It stands on the site of the ancient Assyrian capital of Arrapha, and was the battle ground for three empires Assyria, Babylonia, and Media. The ruins of a five thousand-year old citadel are nearby. The history of this place reeked of war, bloodshed, victory, and defeat.
On the day we entered the city in April 2003, thirty thousand Iraqi army soldiers were there to defend it. There were less than one thousand of us.
Being out numbered thirty to one, we knew it would be tough and we’d suffer many casualties. But I was also
