The package in the mailbox this past Saturday morning was lagniappe in a week of blessings.
I had basked in the restful and renewing atmosphere of Family Camp. Brent was home after a five-month deployment. On the same day Brad, Michelle, and Tyler had arrived back in the city after their jungle adventure. Knowing they were all safe had lifted a weight I hadn’t realized I carried.
And now the package. The return address bore Blake’s name along with that mysterious military code which reveals absolutely nothing about his whereabouts. But the postmark proclaimed that he had been safe and sound on June 1. The green contents label read simply, “Flag,” a birthday/ Father’s Day gift for his dad.
I wanted Steve to experience the same delight I had felt when I opened the mailbox. Knowing that he would be coming home to an empty house while the rest of us were enjoying camp, I placed the package on his pillow.
The next morning when I drove up from the campgrounds and met him at the doors of the church, his first words were not, “Honey, you’re late again!” (Amazing, I know!) His face was working with emotion, and his eyes were glistening. “Did you see what Blake sent?” he marveled.
The certificate accompanying the flag told the story: “[This flag] was flown in the face of the enemy aboard a Special Operations aircraft through the skies of Iraq during a Tactical Combat Mission by our nation’s leading Task Force targeting Al-Qaeda in Iraq.”
Blake’s card and personal message added even more meaning to what will certainly be a family heirloom: “When I flew the flag for you I was reminded that there are indeed things worth fighting for. That flag, flown with you in both mind and heart, forced me to think about just what we are defending, and how precious those things really are.”
I researched the missions flown by the Air Force in Iraq on that date, and wondered which of them was Blake’s and what story that piece of cloth might tell. I tried to picture how it might have made its flight. I gave thanks that its mission was accomplished successfully that day, yet I will feel so much more grateful when Blake’s missions are all behind him and he is with us again. I picture him and his brother folding that flag into its proper military fold before it is placed in its own special display case.
I feel such pride in knowing that two of our boys are engaged in service to our country, taking on the enemies of our flag and all it stands for. At the same time, there is comfort in knowing that the resources of the U.S. Military, as represented by the flag, are available to come to their defense if need be.
But even an American flag has its limits.
On Monday the phone rang with news we couldn’t have imagined hearing. Brad had been admitted to the hospital with stroke-like symptoms. To be so far away when our children were facing such troubling circumstances in a foreign country, with so much uncertainty about the outcome….
Yet even in this dark news, there were things to be thankful for. Thanks that Brad was in a large city rather than the jungle. Thanks that Michelle’s job meant that she had already researched medical options. Thanks that Brad’s symptoms had abated after a few hours. Thanks for a supportive missionary family to come alongside to care for Tyler and give support and encouragement. Thanks that, though difficult, there was a way to communicate with family in the States. Thanks for God’s children who went to prayer as soon as they heard the news. Thanks for a doctor determined to be deliberate and thorough.
I’ve thought about the flag again. It would be great if Brad and Michelle could be on American soil, communicating with American doctors, and cared for in American facilities. But in spite of what they don’t have, I feel overwhelmingly grateful for what is theirs – the grace of God that is going before them, providing for their needs, guiding and overshadowing them.
The early Jewish nation knew it tangibly as a pillar of fire bringing warmth to the desert by night and a pillar of cloud bringing shelter by day. King David, though, envisioned a flag. As he prayed for deliverance in Psalm 60, he comforted himself in God’s promises with these words, “You have given a banner to them that fear You, that it may be displayed because of the truth.” Said most simply, “His banner over me is love.”
I had basked in the restful and renewing atmosphere of Family Camp. Brent was home after a five-month deployment. On the same day Brad, Michelle, and Tyler had arrived back in the city after their jungle adventure. Knowing they were all safe had lifted a weight I hadn’t realized I carried.
And now the package. The return address bore Blake’s name along with that mysterious military code which reveals absolutely nothing about his whereabouts. But the postmark proclaimed that he had been safe and sound on June 1. The green contents label read simply, “Flag,” a birthday/ Father’s Day gift for his dad.
I wanted Steve to experience the same delight I had felt when I opened the mailbox. Knowing that he would be coming home to an empty house while the rest of us were enjoying camp, I placed the package on his pillow.
The next morning when I drove up from the campgrounds and met him at the doors of the church, his first words were not, “Honey, you’re late again!” (Amazing, I know!) His face was working with emotion, and his eyes were glistening. “Did you see what Blake sent?” he marveled.
The certificate accompanying the flag told the story: “[This flag] was flown in the face of the enemy aboard a Special Operations aircraft through the skies of Iraq during a Tactical Combat Mission by our nation’s leading Task Force targeting Al-Qaeda in Iraq.”
Blake’s card and personal message added even more meaning to what will certainly be a family heirloom: “When I flew the flag for you I was reminded that there are indeed things worth fighting for. That flag, flown with you in both mind and heart, forced me to think about just what we are defending, and how precious those things really are.”
I researched the missions flown by the Air Force in Iraq on that date, and wondered which of them was Blake’s and what story that piece of cloth might tell. I tried to picture how it might have made its flight. I gave thanks that its mission was accomplished successfully that day, yet I will feel so much more grateful when Blake’s missions are all behind him and he is with us again. I picture him and his brother folding that flag into its proper military fold before it is placed in its own special display case.
I feel such pride in knowing that two of our boys are engaged in service to our country, taking on the enemies of our flag and all it stands for. At the same time, there is comfort in knowing that the resources of the U.S. Military, as represented by the flag, are available to come to their defense if need be.
But even an American flag has its limits.
On Monday the phone rang with news we couldn’t have imagined hearing. Brad had been admitted to the hospital with stroke-like symptoms. To be so far away when our children were facing such troubling circumstances in a foreign country, with so much uncertainty about the outcome….
Yet even in this dark news, there were things to be thankful for. Thanks that Brad was in a large city rather than the jungle. Thanks that Michelle’s job meant that she had already researched medical options. Thanks that Brad’s symptoms had abated after a few hours. Thanks for a supportive missionary family to come alongside to care for Tyler and give support and encouragement. Thanks that, though difficult, there was a way to communicate with family in the States. Thanks for God’s children who went to prayer as soon as they heard the news. Thanks for a doctor determined to be deliberate and thorough.
I’ve thought about the flag again. It would be great if Brad and Michelle could be on American soil, communicating with American doctors, and cared for in American facilities. But in spite of what they don’t have, I feel overwhelmingly grateful for what is theirs – the grace of God that is going before them, providing for their needs, guiding and overshadowing them.
The early Jewish nation knew it tangibly as a pillar of fire bringing warmth to the desert by night and a pillar of cloud bringing shelter by day. King David, though, envisioned a flag. As he prayed for deliverance in Psalm 60, he comforted himself in God’s promises with these words, “You have given a banner to them that fear You, that it may be displayed because of the truth.” Said most simply, “His banner over me is love.”
I love to think of God flying that banner in the face of our enemy and announcing, “This far, and no further. My protection starts here! I will defend what is precious to me.” For Brad, Michelle, Blake, and all those I love, I can’t think of anything more comforting.
3 comments:
Nor can I Jackie! Thank you so much for sharing from your heart - your words bring comfort and perspective to this uncertain situation.
You are such a blessing!
Ah, Jackie! What an amazing gift and what a touching, beautiful post! I share your pride in having a son protecting our flag, and I understand the anxiety that is part of that experience. I pray for Blake's safety and for Brad's healing. I'm thankful that Brent is back on American soil for now. You all are in our prayers!
What beautiful thoughts, Jackie! And what an encouraging reminder that in uncertain times we have a Savior of whose love and care we can be very certain! Thank you for sharing from your beautiful heart!
Post a Comment