Casualties of War 

This is exciting! My first blog ever. I don’t consider myself a writer. Just a guy with too many thoughts and a dream. So what to write about with so many memories? Some I really don’t want to think about.

It was a Sabbath afternoon at Rend Lake, and it was a beautiful day. I sat on a rock along the shore, staring out over the water at a thousand crystal blue waves, wondering what God had planned for my future. Yet my mind kept dwelling on my many trials, and the errors of my past. I knew the enemy was trying to discourage my positive vision of my eternal future. He was trying to convince me of my lack of worthiness and my failures. He was interrupting my time with God, my mind flashing back to distant events of decades past. 

Many years ago, duty called and I answered. In the name of patriotism and pride, I set forth on an adventure that I would grow to regret. To a young mind, seasoned with heroic movies and books, adventure is exciting, challenging, and glorious. But to the grizzled veteran it’s traumatic, regretful, and permanent.

I thought of Christ, who volunteered for war with no permanent regrets. He left His beautiful home to come to this ‘theater of war’ called Earth on a rescue mission to gather those He loved, shielding them under His wings of protection. He did it knowing that in addition to losing many lost souls as casualties of the war, He would die on the battlefield at the end of His earthly mission. Christ—the greatest casualty of all. 

I pondered on how post-traumatic stress might affect Christ for all eternity, having faced the greatest battlefield trauma of all. And then I thought of the eternal bonds that it would form among the survivors—a band of brothers. And finally, I reflected on how Christ gave His life for me so I could sit on this shore and peer into a righteous destiny. 

I don’t want to let Him down, I thought. “And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9. 

I’ve won, despite the scars! I’m not the casualty of war that the enemy tried so hard to convince me I was. I was wounded, rescued, and now I can look forward to an incredible future of everlasting design. God doesn’t care about who I was. He cares about who I am—and who I will be!

I know Him better than ever, because long after His death, my mother presented His journal for me to read, so I would never forget Him. In His journal, He spoke of His love for me. He promised that we, the apostles of the ages, would meet Him again one day if we held the battle standard high, waved that mighty flag of victory, and never let it go.

And I won’t, because Jesus, my best friend, my Brother in Arms, spilled His blood on the soil so I could go home. For decades, I’ve fostered a deep regret for the cost He had to pay, and I’ve sought to live a life that honors His sacrifice. Not because I have to, but because I want to. 

As the sun sets over the lake, I cherish that bright and righteous future. It’s impossible to be discouraged because I’ve already accepted the robe and crown that my Friend, Rescuer, and Savior has offered me. I can’t wait to wear that crown and robe at the beautiful reunion awaiting all who love Christ.

How very pleasant was the water and the views at the lake that day, as the colors mingled with the sunset. It made me think of the Sea of Glass: “And I saw something like a sea of glass mingled with fire, and those who have the victory over the beast, over his image and over his mark and over the number of his name, standing on the sea of glass, having harps of God.” Revelation 15:2.

May we all stand on that crystal sea before God’s Throne one day, each of us wearing our robe of righteousness and our golden crown with many stars. That’s my greatest dream—to stand there and see that magnificent rainbow over His throne; all my loved ones within an arm’s reach; and the sweet music from our harps, played by our band of brothers and sisters. I hope to see you there.

Because the Lord is my Shepard. I don’t need anything else.