“Mom, in August I’ll be going to Iraq.”
“Iraq? But you just got back from Korea! How can they send you to Iraq?”
“Mom, I want to go. I know there’s a risk I might lose a limb or get killed, but it’s for a just cause.”
“Just cause,” the phrase continued to echo in my ear long after our phone conversation. “God he’s my only born son,” I prayed. “Like your son, he’s the only son I have! If I lose him I can’t have another. Please don’t let my son be shipped off to Iraq! Change his orders, do something, anything! Just don’t let the air force send my only son to war torn Iraq.”
It’s ironic; I spent all of my growing up years at home praying that none of my seven brothers would be drafted into the military (none of them were), then years later my only son voluntarily joins the air force. And despite all of my fervent prayers to have his orders changed, he was sent to Iraq.
As the time neared for my son to leave for Iraq, I prayed without ceasing to God to protect him and give me a word of faith to share with him. While in prayer I began to remember an event in the Prophet Elisha’s life. The King of Syria had sent his army to seize the prophet and person or persons unknown who was revealing his attack strategies against Israel to the prophet. When the army surrounded the prophet’s home, his servant stricken with panic, cried “What shall we do?” Elisha responded, “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Elisha than prayed to God to open his servant's eyes to see; and immediately the servant’s eyes were opened and he saw a vast Angelic army that out numbered the Syrian army, surrounding him and the prophet.
From that day on, after sharing this passage of scripture with my son, I prayed that God would do the same thing for my son and his unit. “Please Lord, give my son’s commanding officer wisdom in leading the convoy; keep every man alert and surround them with your angelic army to protect them from every attack of the enemy.
A few weeks ago I received an Instant Message from my son. He said, “Mom I want you to know I’m okay. Our convoy was attacked, three jeeps in front of me were hit, but every man walked away without a scratch.”
“Hallelujah!” I shouted as I jumped up from the computer. “Thank you Jesus! Glory to your name O God! Thank you for preserving my son’s life and all the men with him!” I danced and praised God all through the house calling friends and family who had stood in prayer with me for my son’s safety. To my surprise, the incident had been on the news and was seen by some, leaving them to wonder if that had been my son’s unit that was hit.
As I share this story, I believe the scripture God prompted me to give my son was more so for my benefit than his. I needed to be reminded that God can protect my son wherever he may be, regardless of the circumstances----be it war torn Iraq, or anywhere else.
UPDATE: On April 2, 2005 at 11:30am CT, my son returned to the US from Iraq. PRAISE THE LORD!
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