I know my enemy
I stood with debris up to my knees as I looked at what remained of the World Trade towers. The park where I stood had pieces of hand drawn pictures from children that would hang in office cubicles along with magazines from street vendors. All of it piled high as I cut through the debris walking towards the towers to continue our search and rescue efforts.
Like many of you, I know exactly where I was when I first heard of a plane hitting the towers. Many of our friends ended up at our house that evening seeking comfort and assurance since my husband and I both served in the military. As the night went on, I could see that my husband felt the urge to do something more than sit at home. He announced to our friends that he would be going to New York to help with the rescue efforts. I quickly responded and said it was not our fight, we couldn’t leave our home, our jobs, our kids.
The following morning at 4 am, as I heard him in the shower, I started packing our gear. I knew that he was set on helping and that I would be going with him. We called our mothers, employers, and National Guard boss on our way to let them know we departed, and we wouldn’t know when we would return. As we drove the long hours from North Carolina to New York I kept asking myself how this happened. Who would want to cause such harm to so many innocent people?
When my husband and I arrived, we walked over 40 blocks to ground zero and used our Engineering skills to conduct damage assessment with the initial group of volunteers. We participated in the bucket brigade as we cleared debris praying and listening for survivors. I can still recall the smell as the fires continued to burn. I can still feel the shock of seeing a street light pole punched through a fire truck that responded when the first tower was hit. I recall seeing the miniblinds wrapped in power linesand the shattered windows for blocks. The image of the blocks of refrigerated trucks to hold remains found will forever be imprinted in my brain. It felt like we stood in a postapocalyptic movie no longer able to recognize New York City. As I lay on a borrowed cot that evening covered in debris and hearing jets flying overhead, I knew who the enemy was that attacked us at home and I was ready to fight.
The years that followed had multiple combat deployments with my husband serving twice in Iraq and once in Afghanistan. During his tour in Iraq in 2004-2005, we served together as combat engineers. His team conducted route security for all ofour convoys that would travel outside of our base in Iraq. While on one of these missions, I received word that his convoy had hit an improvised explosive device (IED) suffering a life, limb or loss of sight casualty and needed to secure a route back to base. It was my job to bring them back not knowing if my husband was alive or dead or the injuries of our fellow soldiers. Time seemed to stand still until the moment I rushed to the military mobile hospital and could see that he was safe, they were all safe and had suffered minor injuries. I knew my enemy and he almost succeeded in taking everything from me and I was ready to fight.
While on tour in Afghanistan, my husband was able to come home to see the birth of our twin girls and quickly returned backto combat to continue his mission. Shortly after, his convoy hit an IED while conducting bomb clearing operations. Although thankful that no one was injured, the fear of what life would be without not only my husband but the father to our two infantswas unbearable. I knew my enemy and I had grown weary of fighting.
As time moved on, combat tours passed, the fight with our enemy no longer dominated our lives. Life began to feel normal. I returned back to school to study theology and my husband and I were both teachers and leaders in our church. I often shared that through those years, my faith in God changed. He no longer felt like some celestial and untouchable being, but truly felt like a Father that was active in my life. I actively encouraged others to open their eyes to see how God moves in their lives.
My husband and I traveled to Israel and I followed with a trip to Greece following in Paul’s footsteps. We then had the opportunity to travel to Turkey with a prior pastor to see the seven churches form the Book of Revelation. We would have daily services at each of our destinations where our Pastor would designate who would provide the comments and readings. Our Pastor asked me to speak at one of the services. I guess he felt attending a theology course was foundation enough! Similar to 9/11, I stood silently at a place marked by death. I was at the edge of a Muslim cemetery where many lay buried from the devastating losses from Galipoli.
I looked around at all the faces waiting for me to speak. As I stood there contemplating what I would say, I recalled attending a military school where a speaker from Iran stood before us. My fellow service members and I all leaned forward in our seats as our enemy stood in our midst. I heard his words and realized he was not so different than me. He believed in his cause as much as I did in mine. He knew his enemy, and it was me.
My words that day at the edge of that cemetery were not my own. I shared the journey that brought me to this point, the multiple times when I faced my enemy and the loss suffered through those encounters. On that day, at the edge of the Muslim cemetery, I shared that God calls us to love our enemy. God calls us to not only Love the Lord but to love our neighbor as ourself(Matthew 22:37-39, NIV). He asks us to love our enemies regardless of what we get in return and our reward will be great (Luke 6:35-36, NIV).
I know my enemy and he is not so different than me and God calls me to love my enemy.
I pray you take this day in memory of all that have fallen. I pray that we never forget as we find a way to continue to move forward.
I pray these words spoke to you, please share with a friend. Don’t miss a blog post, subscribe to my web page.
