Shrapnel Lands at Home

Last week I shared an incident with a friend's grandson in Blast From Afar. This post is in some ways an update, but in others it speaks of God's Providence as well.

Jeffrey's mother lives near a town that is literally a crossroad with a gas station on one corner that only has one pump. Last Wednesday, the day after the family found out about His injuries, she was headed to the store and noticed a DAV van outside. After she finished her shopping she asked about the van and the cashier said they were setting something up out back. She went and talked with them. The Marines and other services are good about supporting their fallen troops, but the Disabled American Vets group told her that at some point she would come upon a question that no one would answer. When that happens she should look them up. They chose to take their road show to a little town in Texas, not knowing who they might find and stumbled upon someone who not only needed them, but who only just found out she needed them.

This second incident is as powerfully Providential and potentially more prophetic. Wednesday morning Jeff, his father, got a call from an odd area code. Thinking it was someone from the Marine Corps again he answered to hear, "Hello, Dad!"

After a short while, he found out that Jeffrey was in a field hospital but would be transferred to an Afghanistan hospital, then one in Germany, finally coming to Maryland (where he currently is). At the end of the call, Jeff called his brother Kenny, who was also a Marine, and found him riding his bike on a mountain trail in Georgia. Kenny rode 40 miles working out his anger and aggression over hearing of his nephew's injury. He pulled to the side of the trail and as he hung up to return to riding, he saw a couple riding up. He waited for them to pass before reentering the trail. The male rider had two prosthetic legs below the knee. Kenny decided to chase him down to talk to him, but as hard as he could pedal he never caught up with the double-prosthetic limbed biker.

God answers prayers all the time. He doesn't always answer them the way we think He should, or even sometimes in ways we think He did answer them, but they all get answered. I still don't know what the future holds for my friend's grandson, but whatever it is, I know it has God figured prominently in it.

In a comment on this blog I shared a. Einstein quote in which he said that there are two ways to view the world. One is as if nothing were a miracle, the other as if everything is a miracle. That has never seemed more appropriate to me then now.

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Blast from Afar

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I have nearly completed what I thought would be the post for today, when I got word from a friend that his grandson had been injured in Afghanistan. He is in stable condition, but has lost both legs below the knee, part of a hand, and may lose his arm. There has been no word yet on when this occurred. It could have been yesterday or several days ago.

Jeffrey (I may not even be spelling it right) is a Marine, despite his Grandfather telling him to join the Navy, like his father was. He had served a tour in Afghanistan already, and was not supposed to go back, but someone else died and he was called to go. Before he left he got married. Also before he left he started a prayer group with other Marines in his unit.

As the leader of a team investigating IEDs, he went in first and presumably that is why his injuries are so severe. I have never met Jeffrey, but I know his Grandfather well, and I know his type well also. It was his job to do, it was his mission. By going in first he may well have saved someone with less experience as the may well have died instead of getting out with severe injuries.

This post really is about saying why I didn't post something today. It isn't a post to drill up support for getting our troops home, though I am in favor of that once it is safe and we know the country won't collapse behind them. It also is not about getting support to end the war now. As a disabled vet I wholly support our troops, especially Jeffrey. I am ashamed to call myself a disabled vet compared to those like Jeffrey. My injuries were sustained in the course of a short career served completely stateside. Despite volunteers from my unit being deployed multiple times, and the unit itself being deployed once, I never went. Most would think this lucky or good, but I, like I suppose Jeffrey to be, was ready to go and would have gone in a heartbeat if only they had needed me.

Some may take this to be an ignored prayer, or a sign of God not caring. Instead, I take this as God choosing to use Jeffrey in a way that I do not yet understand. My posts have not yet generated a lot of comments, and it is probably a bad thing to say that I will delete comments. Especially since there are some comments that I have thought very seriously about deleting. However, if anyone comments to this post and says anything against the military or its mission I will not allow it to remain.

Tomorrow the regular blog from the Hole on the End of the Bible Belt will return. Until then, I hope that everyone takes a minute to consider our troops, those deployed, those injured, those killed, and those that will come home changed. Remember them, kiss your own children, or parents. Thank a vet, whether serving or having served. Pray for them and pray for God's will, purpose, and Providence to shine forth.

Update late Wednesday: I did spell Jeffrey correct. He has lost both legs below the knee and some fingers. He must be made stable then he will be transported to Germany. If he continues to stablize, he will be transported to Bethesda Naval Hospital in Maryland. Remember his family also, he has a wife. They were married just before he shipped out.

 

Overthinking Eating

Used cutlery: a plate, a fork and knife, and a...

There are two main styles of eating with a knife. The European style has the knife in the dominant hand for better control and power over the knife. After using the knife, they switch hands to have the fork in the dominant hand. The American style is more pragmatic, with the knife being in the non-dominant hand so that the fork is all ready for eating. My style is an American-European style, with the knife in the dominant hand, but then I eat with my other hand.

Pragmatism is the only real American philosophy we have created or exported. It is an important part of all we do. It is decidedly un-pragmatic of me to over think the use of eating utensils, but I was thinking about it after reading the blog of a friend's son. He is in Kenya, and in his blog this morning he told of a small boy who ran from the church before the pastor started preaching. The pastor left the pulpit to bring him back and explained that he was so hungry his stomach was hurting. The ever-pragmatic Alabaman had a bag of peanuts in his backpack in case the pastor ran long and they were unable to beat the Methodists to the restaurants.

Sorry about that, I slipped back from Kenya to America at the end. Have you ever known someone so hungry they ran from church? Have you ever known a preacher to leave the pulpit before his sermon to get one small boy? My answer to the first is no, and it makes me ashamed to have so many leftovers in the fridge. My answer to the second is that it is an un-American, un-pragmatic thing to do. The needs of the many should outweigh the needs of the few. But I do know a man who would leave 99 sheep to go and find the 1.  In fact, He did leave them, I am the 1. Are you too?

Justin Evans' Blog http://justinevans0502.blogspot.com/