On another trip to Camp Victory, just before we were to leave to go back to our camp, we heard gunfire just outside the gate.
“Sniper fire,” we were told. “Be alert.” As we pulled out the gunfire stopped; once again, we returned to camp without a scratch.
Another time, our building took a direct hit from an RPG that landed on the roof in the very spot where I would talk on the phone when I had the chance.
These experiences were reminders of God’s vigilance. I will never know in this lifetime if any IED’s malfunctioned and did not detonate, or how close a sniper’s bullet came to me, but I do know that any attempt on my life was foiled. We were scheduled to go home during the height of the violence, but instead we were extended for three more months. Despite all of these dangers, injury or death did not touch me.
Prayer:
Lord, help me trust you for all the details of my life, both large and small.
“A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.” (Psalm 91:7)
July 4
HOMECOMING
Spec. Joe Olsen, U.S. Military Police, Iraq (2003–2004)
My heart was racing. I took a deep breath as I wiped my palms on my legs one more time. It was July 2004, eighteen months after I first deployed. Now, as the plane touched down at Ft. Campbell, I was nervous.
We marched into a building and stood for a short ceremony. And then I saw her my young wife who had endured so much on the home front while I had been away. I wrapped her in my arms, relishing the reunion. This time I wasn’t just home on leave; I was home for good. Seeing her again after so much time had passed didn’t make me nervous.
The nervousness came from the reality that I would no longer be shielded from the battles of life itself. I had been on active duty long enough to become institutionalized in the Army. Suddenly I could no longer rely on the Army to feed, clothe, shelter, and pay me. I would have to go back to school and even back to work. I could no longer just be legally married. I would have to truly be married. When I hear of all of the cases of post traumatic stress disorder, divorces, and even suicides that this war has caused, I am humbled and eternally grateful for God’s protection that I held so dear in war, and now has been extended to me years later.
After I arrived home, I realized just how radical God’s protection of me had been. In the year plus I spent in Iraq, not only did I remain alive and uninjured, but I do not remember ever requiring so much as a band aid for a minor cut. I am not quite sure why God chose to protect me in such an extreme way, under such dangerous conditions. I certainly do not feel deserving of such protection, after so many soldiers just like me did not make it home safely. But he proved to me that he was with me, even to the ends of the earth.
Prayer:
Lord, wherever I go, may I desire your presence and favor above all else.
“If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” (Psalm 139: 9–10)
July 5
THE DAY THAT CHANGED US
Stephanie Olsen, wife of military police officer Joe Olsen
I had never seen him look like that. Head down, hands in his pockets, lost in a world of his own. Our eyes met and we both knew this day was going to change who we were and what we were to each other.
It was September 11th and the whole world was changing. Buildings were falling. People were dying. America was gripped with fear. Our lives, like every American’s, suddenly changed. For my then-boyfriend, Joe, it meant the very high possibility of active military duty. For a young man in the National Guard we knew it would take a homeland attack to force him into full-time duty. That day our worst fear became reality. For the first time in our relationship a separation, due to activation, would most likely be inevitable.
Throughout the day people continually asked Joe, “Have you gotten a call? Heard you anything yet?” All I wanted was for people to go away and leave us alone. It was one of the hardest days in our relationship. I realized that if I was going to make a life with this man, the road ahead of us was not going to be easy or predictable. Suddenly, all the things we wanted from life didn’t matter. Tomorrow was questionable, our future was unsure, and our world and our security were being challenged.
We decided that day in the midst of all the horror, turmoil, and questions that we had each other, and we would face the world together. War was inevitable; that we both understood. Do we get married as we had been planning? Should we wait? How do we carry on in the face of an uncertain timeline? So many unanswered questioned were born that day. But one thing was for certain. We would choose to make it work. We chose to stay together. That day we committed to facing tomorrow together, even though tomorrow was so unsure. If God had called Joe to serve his country, and if God had brought us together, somehow he would see us through the unknown.
Prayer:
Lord, where there is shadow, there must be light. Help me focus on your light to help me walk through my valleys.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:4)
July 6
THE WEDDING
Stephanie Olsen, wife of military police officer Joe Olsen
I was standing in an old army chapel in my white wedding gown. The room was quiet, the mood was somber, and we all knew the hard road ahead. All I could see at the other end of the aisle was a man, my man, in army green. Only our closest family and friends were gathered on the front pews, about ten people in all. At the end of a very long walk were my father, the minister who would marry me to Joe the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. There was no beautiful music, no friends in beautiful gowns, no extended family, no photographer.
News of my fiance’s impending deployment came two weeks before the war officially began and two months before our planned wedding day. All arrangements had been made. Every single detail had been finalized. And then it all fell apart. The war began, the word came, our lives changed.
Looking down the aisle at him, all I can remember thinking is, This is not the way it should be; this is not our plan, but it was God’s plan. I was starting down a path that I had no idea how it would end. All I knew at that moment was that marrying him was right. I had no guarantees, no absolutes. For the first time in my life, there was no safety net. My future was wide open with many possibilities. I was fully aware that I may not like some circumstances that I was facing.
The uncertainty of the upcoming weeks, months, and years was in God’s hands. We were only offered one choice: to trust God. Learning to allow God to have full control is not always easy and sometimes he takes matters into his own hands. For me learning to totally trust God came at a time when I had no other choice. Sometimes I think that is what it takes. He must remove the situation fully from my hands to show that I can trust him with the one that I love.
Prayer:
Lord, help me to trust you with the things and people I hold most tightly to.
“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5)
July 7
THE GOODBYE
Stephanie Olsen, wife of military police officer Joe Olsen
We stood in the darkness, there were no words to say. We had said all we wanted to say and some we didn’t mainly goodbye. The “what ifs”, and the “just in cases” no, we chose not to speak on those. It was our last night together. The next morning he would be on a plane headed for Iraq, and I would be walking across a stage to receive my college diploma. Two weeks married, and we were facing a long separation. Our lives were going in two different directions, literally. I was to begin my career, and he was leaving to fight a war.
The coming months held much uncertainty. We didn’t know when we would see each other, touch each other, or even hear each other’s voices again. We refused to
consider the alternative that we might not ever do any of those things again. But somewhere, in the back of our minds like the really terrible nightmare you hope you never have we both knew this could be our last moment together.
How do I hold onto that moment? How do I turn my back on my life partner and walk away not knowing when or if I will ever lay eyes on him again? Somehow I turned and walked away. On my way home I cried. I cried like I had never cried in my entire life, and I prayed like I had never prayed. The ache I felt was indecipherable. A huge gaping hole was now in my life. I tried to pull my thoughts together, forcing myself to keep going when every fiber in my being wanted to turn back and just hold him one more time. I would be strong. I would not fall apart. I would do it for him. I had no idea where his journey was leading, but that night I made the choice to be strong but I knew that strength would have to come from some source outside myself.
Prayer:
Lord, be my strength when I am weak. For your name’s sake, sustain me.
“He will keep you strong to the end…” (1 Corinthians 1:8)
July 8
THE END OF MY ROPE
Stephanie Olsen, wife of military police officer Joe Olsen
Days away from our first wedding anniversary and more than ten months into Joe’s deployment, we were looking forward to him being home soon. When the phone rang, I thought he was calling to wish me a happy anniversary.
I was wrong. He was being extended. Again.
Originally he was not to have been gone longer than six months. Six months turned into a year and now it looked like it would be even more than a year and half. How long? No idea. Troops were short. Nerves that were already frayed and worn snapped. I don’t remember anything about the rest of that day or the coming days.
I had never felt so out of control in my life. At that moment all of the will and positive thoughts and faith seemed to come to a halt. I felt like I was at my rope’s end just dangling out over an abyss that I had no hope of crawling out of. My first year of marriage was an utter disappointment. I was so angry. I felt robbed and abandoned. It was the darkest time in my life. I had no way of knowing when I would ever again see the man I loved. Already he felt like a distant memory; holding onto him was harder and harder each day.
That day a very hard lesson was learned. It was not about my strength, I had obviously failed. The motivation that kept me going had to come from somewhere else anywhere else because I was not able to supply needed strength any longer. It was during that time that I learned what it truly meant to rely on God. In the darkest, hardest, and most unsure moments, God was there. In the frustrations he was there. In the uncertainty he was there. And I lived through it because he was there.
Prayer:
Father, help me draw strength from you even in my most helpless state.
“God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’ So we say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid…” (Hebrews 13:5b–6)
July 9
OUR STORY
Stephanie Olsen, wife of military police officer Joe Olsen
Many people ask me how it feels to be the wife of a former serviceman. I can sum it up in one word: personal. It’s very personal because it’s now our story, our sacrifice, our time lost. Joe’s deployment to Iraq directly affected who we were and who we are today. Surviving the experience for Joe (physically and emotionally), and for me (psychologically and emotionally), taught us that living out our vows was overwhelmingly important and real. In good times and bad I was his wife, and he was my husband. We held it together even though we were apart. While he longed to be home, I longed for him to return and bring with him my sense of home. He was where I belonged.
We stayed true to each other even in a long separation. Through every trial. Overcoming all obstacles. This is our story. Our legacy. Our history. It is who we are. We can now truly say that we appreciate each other every day. We know what it is like to face the world without each other, and it is not a way of life we ever want to face again.
I now understand the legacy that my grandparents and others of many generations gave us. The love of country, in good times and bad. The right to freedom of speech, even though we may not always agree with each other’s words. The right to worship our God, even though he may not be someone else’s god. My husband sacrificed so much so that our children will have a legacy to inherit. My family, friends, country and yes, God, are worth fighting and dying for. I want my children to grow up in a world where they have the rights and the freedoms to live their lives to the fullest extent of their efforts. Freedom is personal. Freedom comes at a high cost. While my husband didn’t pay the ultimate price, we honor those who do. It is our right and our obligation. Freedom is not free!
Prayer:
Lord, help me show my appreciation for the sacrifices men and women have made to help protect freedom around the world.
“For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.” (Genesis 2:24)
July 10
HERO MISSIONS
Sgt. Joseph Bills, Chaplain’s Assistant, U.S. Army, Afghanistan (2004–2005); Iraq (2006-2007)
A knock on my door jolted me awake at 2 a.m.
“Twenty minutes, sir!” a voice announced.
I rolled out of my cot and shook the sleep from my mind and body. The unexpected wake-up call meant more U.S. soldiers had been killed. It was time for another Hero Mission time to get on the helicopter and collect the remains somewhere in northern Iraq.
As a chaplain’s assistant, it was my job to go on these Hero Missions almost as soon as the soldiers were killed, day or night. As the helicopter landed, blades still running, I’d hit the ground and collect the remains and make sure everything ran smoothly. We’d do a ceremony for them, and transport them down to a bigger air base to prepare them for the ramp ceremony so they could fly home.
What I saw, smelled, and touched on these Hero Missions was pretty bad, but I had to do it. Even though I didn’t know the soldiers personally, I felt like I did. I thought about their families back home and the buddies they left behind. I just wanted to do the best I could to honor them.
During the fifteen months in Iraq, I flew more than three hundred flight hours for close to eighty Hero Missions and there were multiple remains each time. I recognize that nothing is promised. Soldiers in combat died, but guys who would just be walking to the mess hall would be killed by a mortar, also.
It all goes back to the Lord Jesus Christ, just putting my life in his hands. That’s the only way I dealt with it. I still struggle, at times, sleeping, as I think about those soldiers we picked up. I probably will for the rest of my life. It was hard, but I also felt honored to be able to minister in this special way.
Prayer:
Lord, when confronted with the atrocities of war and other injustices of the world, show me what I can do about it, and what I need to leave in your hands.
“The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong… but time and chance happen to them all. Moreover, no man knows when his hour will come.” (Ecclesiastes 9:10–12)
July 11
FACE TO FACE WITH THE TALIBAN
Sgt. Joseph Bills, Chaplain’s Assistant, U.S. Army, Afghanistan (2004–2005); Iraq (2006-2007)
You’ve got to be kidding me, I said to myself when I understood what was happening.
The chaplain and I were making our rounds within a U.S. Army hospital as part of our usual responsibilities during my twelve-month deployment in Afghanistan. We would minister to casualties and the medical staff alike. We had seen charred flesh, broken bodies, missing limbs, every kind of combat injury one can imagine.
But we had never seen this.
In one corner of the hospital, past all the U.S. soldiers suffering injuries, our medical team was diligently working to try to save the life of an Afghani Taliban guy who had inadvertently blown his arms and legs off with his own Improv
ised Explosive Device (IED). It wasn’t a suicide-bombing this guy had just screwed up and blown himself up.
Blood was everywhere. It seemed like quite a lost cause to me. Yet our doctors were trying to help him, even though this guy had prepared a bomb to blow us up. A known enemy that we knew would gladly kill us all if he got the chance.
What’s the point? I thought. If he dies, that’s one less person we have to worry about hunting in the future. Those things go through your head. It’s kind of hard to have compassion for a terrorist who hurts himself.
But the doctors were operating from a different principle: they were dealing with a human life, and all human life has value. If they could possibly save that life, no matter who it was, that was their duty to use their skills to help and not harm. And one has to realize in the overall big picture that these Taliban were just ignorant and had no idea exactly what they were fighting against.
The doctors worked on that armless, legless Taliban terrorist for a long time. They just couldn’t save him.
Prayer:
Lord, let us not forget that you created all men and women in your image and that each life has worth and dignity.
“So God created man in his own image.” (Genesis 1:27)
July 12
OPERATION FLYING START
Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan Page 27