Sharing Hope

Today I would like to share with you a burden that is on my heart. I don’t quite know where to start, so I guess I’ll give a little background and take it from there.

For those who might be new to my blog and aren’t familiar with our story, my husband, Justin, was injured in Afghanistan last year while on his third combat deployment. He was hit with a rocket that they later determined went through his left leg and exploded behind him. As a result of the blast, he lost both legs below the knee. Had it not been for the quick work of one of his soldiers and his medic, Justin likely would have bled out. After being stabilized overseas, Justin was eventually transported to Walter Reed in Bethesda, MD where we would spend the next nearly 18 months. While we were at Walter Reed, we were contacted by our home town asking if we would like a house – not just a house, but an adapted, wheelchair accessible house. Our hometown newspaper had run a story about us and local government officials saw it and wanted to help us. Once plans for our house were underway, they decided to expand things and give homes to between 20-35 wounded veterans and their families. The way it works is that the city purchases foreclosed houses (which can become an eyesore with lawns not kept up, vandalism, etc. and bring down property values for surrounding houses), fixes them up, adapts as needed, and gives them to the veteran. A lot of the materials and labor are donated by local businesses and volunteers. The driving force behind organizing volunteers and collecting donations is a local veteran non-profit called the Space Coast Paratrooper’s Association. We received the keys to our house in August (though we weren’t able to live in it until November when Justin finished up at Walter Reed), and since then, two additional houses have been presented.

Over the past six years that Justin and I have been married, I’ve met a lot of men and women who have served in our military (mostly Army since that’s the branch Justin served in), and I’ve met their families. I’ve seen how multiple deployments, trainings, combat experiences, separations, injuries, (both visible and invisible) and other difficulties effect the service members and their families. Over the past 18 months, I’ve see another side of things with wounded service members and their caregivers and other family members. I’ve seen my own husband endure levels of pain that I can’t begin to comprehend. I’ve seen my young son attempting to grasp why we had to abruptly move, why his daddy was missing his legs, seeing his daddy in pain and hooked up to all kinds of tubes and wires. All that can be scary for a little guy. I’ve seen and experienced the frustration with the transition unit and the confusion of navigating the VA system. I’ve seen doctors and nurses (both military and civilian) who have dedicated their lives to helping treat our wounded service members. I’ve seen them quite literally put people back together. I’ve seen non-profits jumping in to help cover the gaps where the VA and military are lacking. I’ve seen a lot, and the things I’ve seen and experienced have placed a burden on my heart for our veterans because these men and women aren’t just a faceless group of people. These are my friends, my husband’s brothers-in-arms, my neighbors, and my family.

Right now, the current statistics show that an average of 22 veterans commit suicide every day. Lately, it seems like a week doesn’t go by that one or more of my friends posts about another that has taken his/her life. A celebrity that accidentally overdoses or kills him/herself, or even that dies of natural causes, will be in the news for weeks, if not months. Veterans that die in combat barely get mentioned outside of their local news and military news sources, and veterans that kill themselves get even less even though the numbers are growing as the problem is becoming worse.

PTSD is often named as the primary cause, but I personally think it is only part of the problem. The military and VA hospitals are limited to treating problems and their symptoms. They can’t heal wounds of either the physical, mental, or emotional varieties, only treat them. Only the Great Physician can bring true healing. So often, the spiritual is left out of the equation. I don’t know how I could have gotten through the past 18 months without my faith in God. I’m not as strong as people think I am. Over and over in the Bible, God tells us to be strong in Him. My faith gave me hope that even during the most difficult days where nothing was going right and I wanted to cry and scream and give up, that He would never leave me or forsake me. The hard times were only temporary. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”” Hope and a future. What an amazing thought. God knows the plans that He has for my life and those plans are full of hope. Right after Justin was injured, the future looked scary. I had a million things running through my head. I didn’t know where life would take us. I didn’t know how our needs would be met. I didn’t know much of anything other than the fact that Justin was alive. But God knew, and He gave me hope. That hope helped me endure the hard days, and now, 18 months later, the future looks a lot brighter. I’m excited to see what comes next, and I’m enjoying what’s happening right now. If I were to think back to when this journey started and imagine what it would have been like without my faith, I honestly don’t know where I’d be. Maybe I would have turned to drugs or alcohol as a coping mechanism. Maybe I would have called it quits on my marriage, or maybe even my life. I do know that my life would be vastly different. And I wasn’t even the one injured. I haven’t been in combat. I’ve never seen the person next to me die from a bullet or an explosion. I’ve never had to kill anyone. The worst injuries I’ve had were a broken finger, a sprained ankle, and a cut on my knee. Justin and the others that end up in places like Walter Reed are missing body parts. On the day Justin was injured, he called me to tell me what had happened. He was in excruciating pain and only was on the phone with me for a few minutes before he handed the phone off to the nurse to answer my questions, but one thing he requested was the phone number for our pastor. He was on some pretty high levels of pain medication, and doesn’t remember much of the first 6-8 weeks post-injury, so he doesn’t remember, but he did call our pastor once the pain was under control. When he was at his worst, he wanted to pray on the phone with our pastor. At Walter Reed, he was in horrible pain after one of his surgeries, and he requested a chaplain to come pray with him. In the times where the pain seemed unbearable, God brought Justin comfort and helped him. He gave Justin the strength to recover and live a full life regardless of his injuries. He healed Justin’s wounds. He helped Justin to get off all of his pain medications. We have seen so many prayers answered in so many ways that I can’t begin to name them all. But what if Justin didn’t have that faith?

I think that lack of Hope is one of the biggest reasons the veteran suicide rate is so high. That’s not to say that Christians never get depressed or even suicidal, but as Christians, we know we can place our full faith in God and he will help us through the dark times. It’s not always easy, but God is always faithful. As Christians, we need to pray for our veterans. Not just pray for the safety of those deployed (though that is extremely important) and not just to thank God for those who have served (also important), but to pray that those who have served will accept that gift of Hope. That they will allow the Great Physician to truly heal them. Local churches need to reach out and show these men and women God’s love. So many are lost and searching for something, but many aren’t sure what that something is. Christmas is just around the corner, and for many, this can be a sad, depressing time of year rather than a time of joy. These men and women need God’s love and need the hope and comfort that only He can give. We need to find ways to get out in the community and build relationships and fill in the important gap that the military and VA neglect – helping these men and women find spiritual healing. I truly believe that if Christians all across our great nation do this, we will see the veteran suicide rate go down. All of the medication in the world can’t compete with the healing that God can bring, and as Christians, we need to share this Hope with those around us.