life. God doesn’t love Tyler’s parents any less than he loves me. So just because Daniel loves God and loves us, and I really, really, really want him to be my husband and Anna Grace’s daddy, I don’t have any guarantee that that is God’s plan. It sent the message to my heart that this was about God’s glory, not about us.
Lord, show me how to use my present circumstances to reflect your glory to those around me.
“For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.” (Romans 11:36)
May 18
ARE MY LEGS OK?
This couldn’t feel more dangerous than it does right now, I thought, squinting into the desert sun.
The road we were driving on was elevated and right alongside of it was an irrigation canal. We were visible for a long way, no trees or buildings obscuring the view. I felt exposed to unseen attacks but this was the road we had to take to reach the next sheik who we hoped would give us information on Al Qaeda whereabouts. I was in the front passenger seat while my driver kept driving.
The next thing I knew was that I was on my back in a ditch just waking up. Somebody was screaming. I tried to go to whoever it was, but my soldiers pushed me back down on a stretcher where I had been unconscious for a few minutes.
“Relax sir,” my soldier said, “you’re the only one.” They were already treating very massive wounds.
I’m the only one WHAT? I wondered.
Then it hit me. I’m the only casualty. My mind was very foggy, my vision blurred. Everything looked bright but sounds seemed far away. I was in shock.
When I lifted my head and looked past my feet, I saw the Humvee I had been riding in still on the road with its door blown open. The guys were working on my leg, my body armor was blown open, and I thought at the time that I could actually see my intestines. As it turns out I couldn’t quite but almost. My battalion executive officer (XO) was holding my hand talking to me it’s what one does with casualties.
“Are my legs okay?” I asked.
“You’re going to be fine,” was the response.
If you’ve ever watched any war movies, you know that “You’re going to be fine,” means “You’re in really serious trouble.” It’s what you tell someone who’s dying because you don’t want them to panic; that just complicates the medical situation. That’s when I knew it was pretty bad.
Lord, help me make the most of every day you grant me on this earth.
“Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (James 4:14)
May 19
OUR MOST SEVERE CATEGORY
It was Jan. 10, 2005. I was on my way out the door to run an errand and my mom, who had been visiting from Atlanta, was about to head home.
Then the phone rang.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Good morning ma’am, this is Captain _____ from Ft. Carson. I need to inform you that your husband has been injured. I have a report to read to you.”
Daniel had been injured once before so I was not alarmed yet. I thought, Well he’ll call me as soon as he can; this is probably a little more serious.
“Broken bones and lacerations,” the captain continued. “He’s very seriously injured… I’m sorry to tell you this is our most severe category.”
So that’s when I understood. Daniel was hanging on to his life.
After jotting down some phone numbers, I hung up the phone and somehow, through the tears, strung the words together to tell my mom what I just learned. She fell on her knees and started praying immediately. Both of us got our church prayer chains going and I asked Patton, Daniel’s brother, to relay the information to Daniel’s family. All I could do then was pray.
Daniel had a fractured skull, a broken bone in the neck, and a massive wound from his sternum, across his groin to the right knee. Sitting in the humvee, the explosion came through the bottom of his right leg and out the top of the same leg. Two fists could fit in the gaping hole of his leg. The abdominal wall on the front was stripped away; the skin and flesh were pushed to the side. An ice cream scoop-size of tissue had been carved out from inside his left thigh.
But I wouldn’t know any of this until many agonizing hours later. Thoughts of Tyler’s death came to mind. I trusted God, but I was not convinced he would choose to save Daniel’s life.
Lord, give me the desire and discipline to become an active prayer warrior even before crisis hits.
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1–2a)
May 20
A SERIES OF MIRACLES
My life hung in the balance. One wrong move, a delayed decision or action from those in charge of my care, would have made my wife a twenty-nine-year-old widow and my daughter fatherless.
But a series of coincidences (or maybe miracles) saved my life that day.
First, as we were getting ready to leave to visit the sheiks that day. My medic, Sergeant Krause, asked to tag along with our convoy.
“Hey sir, I know I normally don’t go out on missions with you but I feel like I should today,” he said.
Then one of my superiors, the battalion executive officer (XO), also asked to come.
“I haven’t been out with you in a while, and I’m bored,” Major Cotton said.
After the blast, the medic ran up to me, took one look and said, “We need to get this guy on a helicopter.” If they had taken me to the base “aid station” five kilometers away (normal procedure), I would have died in transit.
Because of his higher rank, the XO was able to call for a helicopter on a higher priority radio frequency in order to divert a helicopter that had already been in flight. So a helicopter arrived at the scene in five minutes instead of the usual thirty.
