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

“Come on let’s sit down and talk,” he said. He slumped down in a chair, completely relaxed, smiled, and suddenly was no longer the president; he was just a guy with a job, sitting around talking with us like a family member at a barbeque. For the twenty minutes, he put everything and everyone on hold to meet with the family of a Private First Class who gave his life for his country. The President shared his private self with us in the process.

What an incredible lesson on service. We weren’t on the itinerary and Air Force One was late because of it. If the president of the United States is willing to drop everything on his plate to visit with a family, surely the rest of us can do it. No one is above serving another person, and no one is so lofty that he or she can’t treat others with dignity and respect.

Lord, show me where I fall short of showing others the respect they deserve.

“Show proper respect to everyone.” (1 Peter 2:17a)

For the next twenty minutes, President Bush talked with us about our son, Iraq, faith in God, convictions, his family and his feelings about nearing the end of his presidency. He asked each of our teenaged sons what they wanted to do in life and counseled them to set goals, stick to their convictions, and not worry about being the “cool” guy.

He said that he’d taken a large amount of heat during his tenure and was under considerable pressure to do what was politically expedient, but he was proud to say that he never sold his soul. Sometimes he laughed, and at other times he teared up. He said that what he’ll miss most after leaving office will be his role as Commander in Chief.

He thanked us for the opportunity to meet, because he felt a heavy responsibility knowing that our son died because of a decision he made. He was incredibly humble, full of warmth, and completely without pretense.

We couldn’t believe how long he talked to us, but he seemed to be in no hurry whatsoever. In the end he thanked us again for the visit and for the opportunity to get off his feet for a few minutes. He then said, “Let’s get some pictures.” The doors flew open, Secret Service and the White House photographer came in, and suddenly he was the President again. A few pictures, more thank yous, a few more hugs, and he was gone.

The remarkable thing about the whole event was that he didn’t have to see us at all. But he put everything on hold to meet privately with the family of a Private First Class who gave his life in the service of his country.

You often think of service in terms of sacrificing yourself for someone in a higher position, but how often do you remember that serving someone below you can be much more important? If you’re in a leadership capacity, take a good look at how you’re treating your people, and remember that your role involves serving the people you rely on every day.

Lord, cultivate within me a spirit of service for everyone regardless of their social or professional status.

“Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men.” (Ephesians 6:7)

Around three a.m. on March 4, 2002, Army Ranger Nate Self and his thirteen-man Quick Reaction Force were sent to recover a fallen Navy SEAL in Afghanistan, a place teeming with hundreds of al-Qaeda fighters.

“There was no place on earth more hostile to U.S. soldiers and no place would my team rather be,” Self recalled. “We were there because we were Rangers, and we had a creed to uphold: Never leave a fallen comrade!”

Self and his team weren’t told that helicopters that had been sent to the mountain (later named Roberts Ridge) had come under fire. When the Chinook helicopter was shot down in an ambush, a fifteen-hour firefight ensued.

Bullets whizzed past Self, rocket-propelled grenades ripped through the air around him. Self began to plan a counterattack on the high-caliber machine-gun bunker, even though he was bleeding from a shrapnel wound in his leg.

Hours of fighting dragged on as Self and his men tried to stabilize the area enough for helicopters to come in and evacuate the wounded. In the meantime, fellow soldiers lay bleeding in the snow all around them as they fought off the enemy at such close range they could see their faces.

Self and his men found the fallen SEAL who had been killed with a shot to the head, and also located the body of a dead U.S. serviceman from the first failed rescue attempt. Three of Self’s men were killed in that daylong battle on the mountain. But if not for Self’s clear thinking and strong leadership, the casualties would have been even more.

Senior officers back at the base heaped praise upon Self and his team for being able to get off the mountain and kill the enemy without sustaining greater losses especially since they had been caught unaware.

For Self, the battle resulted in a Silver Star for valor, a Purple Heart, and later, a position of honor as President Bush’s guest for the 2003 State of the Union address. To those watching, Capt. Self represented strength, resolve, and success of the military.

But Self didn’t want to be honored. In fact, by 2004, he wanted to die.

Lord, when I feel ambushed by uncontrollable circumstances, give me wisdom and guidance to make the right decisions.

“How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” (Psalm 13:2)

Severe post-traumatic stress disorder had delivered a near-fatal blow to this war hero; he left the Army in late 2004, cutting short a would-be military career. Vivid nightmares, anxiety, anger, and self-destructive behavior took hold of him.

“I just hated myself,” said Self. “I felt like I was somebody different. And since I didn’t feel like I could be who I was before and hated who I was now, I wanted to kill the new person. I felt like I had messed up everything in my life. The easiest way, the most cowardly way to escape was to just depart.”

Though he never asked for help or told anyone he was contemplating suicide, Self’s parents intervened to direct him to the help he needed. Christian Army chaplains trained in PTSD provided counseling, and he went to group therapy sessions at the VA. But he also joined a small group for vets with PTSD at his church, First Baptist Church in Belton, Texas. The leader was his chaplain counselor.

“At the VA small group, we talked about symptoms, but we were never allowed to talk about our experiences because they were afraid it would trigger us. But it was those experiences we needed to talk about the most. At the church, we got into God’s Word, bathed all sessions in prayer, told our stories, wrote about and shared our experiences and that was extremely therapeutic. We looked at spiritual solutions and examples of warriors in the Bible. Turning my PTSD into Christian service has helped me get past to the other side of it.”

The writing that Capt. Self began at church developed into his memoir, Two Wars: One Hero’s Fight on Two Fronts Abroad and Within (Tyndale House, May 2008). Self also helps train churches from New York to San Diego on PTSD by sharing his testimony through Bridges to Healing.

“There are many things in life we go through that God allows for specific reasons,” said Self. “We can be hurt by things over which we have no control. That doesn’t mean it’s not fair, but neither does it mean that God needs to take it away, God can use the thorn in the side the anguish is there for a reason.”