Jane Cook - Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan

Something inside of me knew when Marc left my home in March of 2006 that he wouldn’t be returning and that would be the last time I would see him. I’m not a fearful, worrisome type of person, and I didn’t dwell on that while he was deployed, but somehow I knew. I immediately left and asked my friends to pray. As I drove home a song came to me.

I put my hope in you, Oh Lord, trusting you I will not be shaken, knowing that you will see me through I put my hope in you. I sang it over and over as I drove home.

I expected to see a black sedan sitting in front of my house, but there wasn’t one. I guess I’ve seen too many movies. Instead I saw Kris pacing in the street.

“Mom, the Navy’s here,” he said, confirming the news Marc was dead.

My friends, prayed, cried, and comforted me. God provided friends that night and insights on courage to prepare me, knowing how much I would need to trust him to face the days ahead.

Thank you for the gift of courage.

“Be strong and very courageous.” (Joshua 1:7)

In the early morning hours my house had emptied after receiving the tragic news my son had died. I wondered how I would survive. I knew where my strength would come from so I opened my Bible to Psalm 27 (NKJV). “The LORD is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The LORD is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid? When the wicked came against me to eat up my flesh, my enemies and foes, they stumbled and fell.”

Through this passage, God confirmed to me Marc wasn’t afraid. I learned more about Marc’s final act of courage in the following days. On August 2, 2006, in Ramadi in 120-degree temperature, Marc carried the additional weight of a 150 pound M60 without a sling. His teammates were absolutely amazed at his strength.

It was the biggest battle since the war began. They had been in a firefight for two hours when Marc single handedly stood in the direct line of fire and shot off more than one hundred rounds of ammunition. Three times that day Marc would stand in the direct line of fire to defend his buddies, for you, for me, and for this nation.

Marc was a young man who selflessly gave his life because he valued other lives as more important than his own.

That evening God comforted me with Psalm 27 and I knew I needed to read it at Marc’s funeral to encourage others and give them hope.

“Lord, how can I do that? I’m sure I’ll be weeping and who knows, I might faint.” Again I felt God nudging me.

I read Psalms 27 at Marc’s funeral without crying or breaking down. God gave me amazing strength as I applied each verse to our hearts. I had no clue where God would “deploy me” in the days to come, but I had hope and was confident he would see me through.

Thank you for providing strength during extraordinary circumstances. Thank you for the courage of Marc Alan Lee and others who have sacrificed their lives for me.

“Though an army may encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war may rise against me, in this I will be confident.” (Psalm 27:3, NKJV)

When Marc left my home in March of 2006, somehow I knew it would be the last time I would see him. I’m not a worrier, not a fretter, that’s just not who I am. But I sensed God preparing my heart.

When my second husband died twelve years earlier, the same thing happened. We had just buried my grandmother, and I remember sitting in church when a thought crossed my mind: you’re going to need to prepare for another funeral. Days later I received the news my husband had died tragically.

After his death, I remember reading “God’s a husband to the widow and a father the fatherless.” Realistically, how does that work?

Try me, I sensed God saying.

So I tried him. I discussed an important decision I was facing and waited for his response. Nothing. I started to cry, facing the reality There’s nobody there. I’m all alone. I’ve got to make all of these decisions myself.

Then I remembered I hadn’t had my quiet time. My scheduled reading for the day was 2 Kings 20:5, “I have seen your tears, and I have heard your prayers and I will answer.”

I realized that’s exactly how a husband would respond to his wife: validating her concern, comforting her, and telling her he would take care of it.

“Lord you’re serious,” I realized about his promise. That was just the beginning. God proved himself over and over developing in me a deep and confidence in who he is. When my children would come to me seeking answers they would often hear me tell them “Go ask your Daddy.” They knew I meant to be in God’s word, praying, and asking for his wisdom.

So it’s no surprise that Marc followed in his Daddy’s footsteps and laid down his life. Marc knew who is true father was. God laid down his life for us in Christ for our freedom in eternity. Marc laid down his life for our freedoms on earth. I’m so very proud of him.

Thank you for being a father to the fatherless and a husband to the widow, for the practical provisions of life and drawing me closer to you.

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” (Psalm 68:5)

I met Congressman Greg Walden at Marc’s memorial service in Hood River. Even though I had lost my son, I explained how much I still believed in what we’re doing in Iraq, and how proud I was of President Bush, and maybe one day I could thank him.

On September 11, Congressman Walden called and said, “I’m having dinner with President Bush on Wednesday, and I will hand deliver your letter if you have it to me in an hour.”

At the beginning stages of grief, I was numb. I couldn’t even write a letter to my best friend, yet alone the President of the United States.

I had stayed in Hood River to repair an empty rental. I had no computer and no paper. I had found Marc’s writing tablet the day before under the house. As I wrote the date September 11, memories from 2001 flooded my heart. I had two sons and a son-in-law serving in the military. I knew then this was going to be a personal war, but I had no idea just how personal.

The letter that followed was inspired by God!

Hours after the President received my letter he hand-wrote me an amazing letter saying he would be honored to meet me. Arrangements were made to meet in October.

President Bush walked into the room with tears in his eyes and hugged me and said, “I’m so sorry, mom.” He picked up his big chair that had been set about eight feet from mine and set it down two inches from mine and said, “This is where I want to sit, next to a hero’s mother.”

He held my hand and said, “How you doing mama? You’re going to need to rely on the Lord.”

He was sincere, so compassionate. I knew he had a plane to catch, a bill to sign, yet people would have thought I was the only person in the world for that thirty-five minutes.

God’s creativity never ceases to amaze me those he uses, his timing, and the tools he provides. His favor fell on me in my greatest time of need, and he provided me an opportunity to meet President Bush.

Thank you for using ordinary things to orchestrate your favor and blessings in life.

“But I pray to you, O LORD, in the time of your favor; in your great love, O God, answer me with your sure salvation.” (Psalm 69:13)