A couple of months ago, some people moved into the house across the street from mine. Nice folks, actually.
About
three weeks ago, they had company. The wife's nephew was coming for a
visit--a Christmas visit. His Guard unit had been involuntarily
re-deployed to Iraq. This was the second involuntary re-deployment for
his unit, and for him it would be his third tour. I met him, and we had
a nice talk for a couple of hours while the folks were preparing
"Christmas" dinner.
Daniel, 25, was killed this Monday in
Iraq. I found out when the folks came over to ask me to officiate at
his funeral service.
I would like to be able to explain my
emotions somewhere, in a way that would just make some sense. Daniel
was a college student, a son, a Nephew, a husband, and a Dad.
He
went because he was called. I can say this with no fear of successful
contradiction, because it was a lot of what we discussed. Soldier to
soldier, we fully understood the situation. He did not return happily.
And, to be honest he did not return as willingly this time. He had only
been on duty for two days when an IED blew him off a Hummer, into
several different pieces, and into several different directions.
Why do I say that?
Because,
my beloved brothers, as too many of us know, that IS the reality. His
final conversation with me was the "what if" conversation. He had a
solid faith, which was a joy to share. He had zero faith in his
government. He had total faith in his Commander, and in his fellow
soldiers, his "Buddies". That is one of the most powerful motivations
for a soldier to return to a combat area, you know. "They are over
there, doing the deal, and I am over here, doing nothing about it."
Guilt, survivor's anxiety, the whole thing.
Today, I serve a grieving family. I serve as the friend of the soldier, as a friend to a soldier's family. I do so proudly.
I
also do so with a great personal sadness. I guess that for some this
would purely reek of that "Bleeding Heart" Liberal nature of mine.
Others of you would refer to this as my moderate conservative leanings
getting the better of me.
As I write this, I am awaiting a phone
call that will tell me when Daniel's body will arrive here, so that the
last battle will be fought, and won for him. It is 0333 and I am trying
to make sense of my feelings.
What argument will convince me?
What logic will support this? The soldier's heart within me has all the
answers to the valiant's defense. The Pastor's heart within me has the
words that will fall short of the comfort I would so surely wish to
give the family. Both will be heard, and seen and known.
But,
you see, my Commander sees this, and more than the tears of this
soldier's family, which I have seen, and more than my tears, which I
shed unashamedly, I cannot help but focus on the tears which I see on His face. In my heart, I know for a certainty that Daniel is resting in His arms.
But,
as the Commander of the Heavenly Host holds Daniel securely in His
arms, the look that I see on His face is one of pain, and shock. The
tears which flow from His eyes are just as real as those of the many
who cry with Him.
This is not a reality of life, or of war.
This is the FINAL reality of life, and of war. And, in all the
discussions, and arguments, and debates, and strategies, and campaigns
both political and military, this IS the final battle.
This need
never have happened. This is a quiet time in the night. Yet the words
just keep screaming into my head. This, THIS need not have happened.
There is no doubt in my mind, or in my heart, that Daniel's valor has
no equal. It is completely "valid". So is the pain and anguish of those
who loved him, and (like me) only knew him. I have no issue there. I
am, after all, a soldier. The old saying is "It doesn't matter when you
retire; you never leave!" It is true.
But, I must be honest here, if nowhere else.
I
see no honor here. There is no face to hate, or fear, or fight. There
is no legitimate cause, upon Daniel's life weighed in the balance. This
war is not an honorable campaign. Honorable men and women fight it, and
die for it.
This is a war of lies. For those of you, my
beloved, who genuinely disagree with me on this, please understand that
I do not disrespect you, or your opinions here. I am, however, clearly
stating my own.
The rules of logic tell me that a thing can only
be true if, and only if, there is no single point at which it is false;
otherwise it must necessarily be false, no matter how much truth is
contained within it.
There are many of us around this place
that can speak to you younger pups for days about how the reality of a
war of lies is fought. What you read about as history is, for many of
us, recent current events. We know how it feels, and walks, and smells.
We know how it tastes, and how it talks, and how it lies.
And,
like no small number of you, I too was there when it began, standing in
the sand, waiting for word to "jump off". It was a lie then. It is a
lie now.
There are too many Daniels. Honorable soldiers who,
for no reason other than the call, go. Their honor is not lessened. It
is exalted. But they go to fight in a war that is a lie. There is just
simply no other way to call it, but what it is. To call it otherwise,
or not to call it at all would surely dishonor this valiant soldier.
This
is MY heart on the matter. There is no place on this Earth for my
heart's truth now, save this little piece of electronic space. So I
take it, and I use it. Would I be ashamed if Daniel's family were
somehow to see this entry? Absolutely not. Would I feel shame if my
comrades, or my commanders were to somehow read this? Absolutely not,
and especially not these people. For, unlike many who may read these
words and feel anger, those people are the very ones who have the right
to evaluate my words. It is they who, side by side, have fought with me
and in many cases brought me safe from harm. I believe I honor each of
them with the truth-not as the truth is, but the truth as I know it.
And, my brothers, if truth is not worth fighting for, it surely is not
worth dying for. How much so, then is it to die for a lie?
This war is a lie. And, that is just the simple truth.
And,
the only way I can truly honor this fallen hero, if not tell it, is to
at least honestly admit it to myself, here. And, so I do.
You
see, in reality, that IS life in the closet. You may reel against those
words, and say it is my choice. IS it? I think not. Unless you are
speaking of my choice to rightly honor a fallen soldier, preserve the
peace of his grieving family, and honor his life, and death in a
memorial fit for a hero. Then, yes, it very much IS my personal choice.
Sometimes, that's how choices are made in real life. Any parent knows
this.
I am not in the Closet by choice, my friends. Nor, is
the "condition", by which our mostly misundertanding fellow citizens
compel me to be in the closet, my choice.
I have been
compelled into the Closet in order to fulfill a greater good. My boss
has never not seen me there, and has never looked into my eyes with
sadness or shame. He completely understands the battle we wage day by
day. Like Daniel, He looks into my heart, and sees Himself. Daniel has
taken his rest, and we are still fighting the lies.
And, rest
assured, fight on I will. I am, after all, a soldier. Not in spite of
the Daniels who are dying in such amazing frequency by any means, but
rather because of them, and for them.
I must, however, be honest
with you. It truly DOES get tiresome. A dear friend imprinted a saying
on my soul many years ago when he told me:
"You only get older when you get wrinkles on your heart."
I got a little older these past few days. I wonder how old ya have to get before you graduate?
Man, it just does get tiresome.
Good luck on your journey.
Posted at 11:20 am by energyball
