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

The two-year anniversary of that mountain ambush has come and gone and I feel keenly the lack of control for myself and my other two brothers who are in the Army. I have the same job as Forrest the same rank. Will my life end soon as his did? Will my brothers? No matter the answer, we choose put our lives on hold while we serve our country.

Forrest once said, “Open your eyes and you will see, there is more to God than you believe.” My faith sometimes feels blind, but I know Forrest was right. God is orchestrating more than I can even imagine, even if I can’t see it.

Lord, help me to trust that you are using all things in my life to somehow bring yourself glory.

“And we know that all things work together for good for those that love God.” (Romans 8:28)

My brother’s death changed everything for me.

Before Forrest died, I wasn’t going anywhere; I had no goals for the future. When he was killed, my eyes were opened to the value of life, and I knew I could do better with mine. After talking to all the soldiers that knew him I could see the pride and honor that they had in their work and that made me want to honor him by continuing his work. The army has allowed me to accomplish more than I could ever have done in the civilian world, and I am thankful for that.

It was difficult to see my mom in pain over my choice to enlist, but I had made my mind up. If anyone else was going to die in this war I would rather it be me.

Most of the time I block thoughts of Forrest’s death from my mind because the pain is crippling. But when I deny his sacrifice, I feel that I am not honoring him enough. The fact that he died in combat makes me proud of him but also makes me terribly sad. Was his death instant or did he realize what was happening and that he was about to die? War is an ugly thing, it’s not like the movies; these are real people with real families and real pains.

Even though it has been two years, it’s so hard to believe that he is not here anymore. I always think that I can just pick up the phone and call him, like he is on a long vacation. He was a great man, the most fun, loving, and exciting brother anyone could ask for. I always wondered why God took him and not one of his other brothers. It is clear now it was because he was the only one of us who was ready. He had run that race, fought the good fight, and lived a life full of dignity, honor, and pride. Knowing he was such a great man now that helps with the pain.

Lord, help me strive to run the race in a way that pleases you so that I might be ready when you choose to call me home.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:7)

I went to war on September 11, 2001. I don’t carry the same kind of weapon that other soldiers do, but I went to war with them anyway. Something changed for our nation a deep, penetrating soul-search. At the beginning of this war, I was called on to send some of my troops chaplains and chaplain assistants to serve the soldiers who would fight and die in this war. My heart burned as they left and I remained behind.

But in January of 2004, I finally found myself on the battlefield with them, sharing their depredations, fears, hopes, and faith. No one wants war less than the soldier who bears the brunt of its fury. They are a special lot those who deem freedom worth the hardships and hazards of war and I am so humbled and honored to serve with them. It’s my job to help them strengthen their faith, but I find my faith being strengthened by them. I know that some question this war, but not the soldiers; they know what is at stake, for on September 11, 2001, something changed.

For the first time in six decades, we realized that we faced the sure extinction of the sweet water of freedom. And we realized that “whatever it takes, for as long as it takes,” we must fight this war. Why? Because freedom is worth it. When we look at what life is like in the model “they” want to impose on the world, it is abhorrent to us. Freedom carries its pitfalls and excesses, yes, but freedom also gives us the power of choice. And choice gives us the opportunity to seek God in all his will and to enjoy life in all his glory. Something changed in 2001 we paid freedom’s price. Now let us show freedom’s power, “whatever it takes, for as long as it takes!” For we have been changed.

Lord, teach me how to sacrifice for that which is worth fighting for.

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial.” (James 1:12a)

Several weeks during April and early May 2004 can best be described as “The Ecstasy and the Agony.” The ecstasy came from the hope and joy experienced in remembering the central event of all history—the death and resurrection of the Lord of the Universe. On Easter Sunday morning, we had an absolutely marvelous Sunrise Service with so many people we could not count them.

The agony came from the senseless and sadistic murder of the four civilian contractors in Fallujah on March 31, and the heinous desecration of their mutilated bodies.

The ecstasy came from soldiers and civilians growing deeper in their faith and trust in the Lord Jesus.

The agony came from the attack on the convoy north of Baghdad where several were killed, and Tom Hamill was kidnapped and held hostage for three weeks.

The ecstasy came from his escape and reunion with his family.

The agony came from the highest total of soldiers killed and wounded in any month since the start of the conflict.

The ecstasy came from a wonderful and dynamic National Prayer Breakfast at Taji where soldiers and civilians gathered to ask God’s blessings on our nation.

The agony came from the horrid rocket attack at that same base a couple of weeks earlier that took four lives, including a reserve captain whose civilian job was as a youth minister. As he lay there dying, he looked at individual soldiers saying, “Joe, I didn’t see you at chapel Sunday; you know you need to go. Bob, I missed you at Bible Study.”

How does one deal with these ecstasies and agonies? Being able to handle the issues of life and death in the context of the eternal is the challenge. It is the work of chaplains and their assistants, and those whom they empower with a living faith. They take care of soldiers with selfless concern, imputing God’s love and grace into the most difficult of situations. And then they take care of each other. May God continue to provide such servants to the military forces of our nation, nurturing their faith, strengthening their moral resolve, and lifting their souls toward heaven.

Lord, may my trials strengthen my faith instead of compel me to doubt.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.” (James 1:2)

From an email newsletter dated June 11, 2004:

The abuses at the prison at Abu Gharib are obviously an embarrassment to all. The real hardship that is not known is that the soldiers currently assigned there are taking all the heat and scrutiny, even though they were not present at the time of the abuses last year and have been doing a good job. I have two chaplains permanently assigned there who are very strong in their spiritual leadership and encouragement, and are doing a marvelous job at helping their soldiers handle all the unwanted (and mostly undeserved) visibility. The alleged perpetrators are rightly being handled through the military justice system, but the actions of a very few will tarnish the reputation of the many who are honest and decent soldiers serving honorably.