God is in the details. When we are traveling in other countries, or involved in a ministry event or something else that is entirely God focused, we see God in the details. But other times during normal, daily life, God can seem very quiet. But is He? Or is it that we have so much static on the line we can’t hear him, or don’t choose to? This past week God has been amazingly loud in so many ways. I write everything in my head before I put it on paper so I keep virtually writing this blog then God spins me in a new direction and I start over so nothing is getting on paper.
I had an amazing God experience this week. He is directing me, moving me in new directions….not sure exactly where but He is definitely in the details. Friday night I heard some statistics on the Vietnam War that I questioned. Once home I began to research which quickly got my head completely wrapped up in Vietnam. For some time I have been thinking that I should gather my father’s pictures, certificates, metals, letters etc. and put them in a MyPublisher book, since I seem to be the collector of the family archive information. Saturday morning I pulled out the 3 tattered binders and began sorting out the military certificates from the letters from the pictures to prepare for the scanning process.
I spent hours lost in my dad’s life from enlisting at age 16 through dying at age 32. I traveled through serving in Japan, the Subic Bay Philippines, fighting in the Korean War and then on to the Vietnam War. The certificates showed a life dedicated to his calling, dedicated to serving his country, dedicated to being a Marine – above all else a Marine. He joined the Marines before even graduating High School, yet graduated Officers Candidate School 7th in a class of 600. He led a Drum and Bugle Corps, though he didn’t play an instrument and coached a football team, though he didn’t necessarily play. And in almost every picture he looked into the camera with a slightly crooked smile and I got a sense that no matter where he was, there was no place he would have rather been. A Marine.
In 1964, he was stationed in Okinawa, CO of Hqtrs. Co. 9th, over and over he asked to go to Vietnam. Every Marine I know wants to be where the action is – it is what they are called for. After 7 months of asking, in January 1965, he received orders to go into Vietnam for one month. He went. He died. In his role as a military advisor he was sent to Binh Dinh province with two battalions of Vietnamese marines. He was killed along with 7 Vietnamese marines during a heavy clash in the mountainous region of Binh Dinh. He had been in country for two weeks. He was killed two months before the military action was declared in Vietnam which was officially the beginning of the “war.” When they asked my mother why an officer with a non-combat, secure assignment would plead to go to the front line, her answer was simple, “It was because he was a Marine.”
I sorted the photos which showed buddies and fellow marines from a half a century ago smiling into the camera full of pride, youth and passion for their call. The piles of letters and commendations spoke of a father I never knew but of a hero I always imagined. I couldn’t help but be entranced by his military life and the pile of information I was compiling.
As I returned to work on Monday, I received a random email with facts about the Vietnam Wall. I read through it curious about the timing as so much of the weekend had been spent in this era. I tried to remember where my father’s name was on the wall. I knew his name was on the first panel 1e at the apex as his sacrifice was so early in the action.
So here is the God part…I went to a website to find out exact placement on the Wall (1e Line 93): http://thewall-usa.com/guest.asp?recid=26928
I looked up my father’s name, read the basic facts…birth, death, birthplace, etc. Then the button. A comments button. I clicked expecting to see nothing. After all he was killed 46 years ago. Speechless, absolutely speechless. There are posting and comments about him. He died 46 years ago…the most recent posting was Memorial Day 2011. How is it possible? 46 years and people are writing amazing things about who he was, the marine he was and the sacrifice he made. It’s hard to describe the impact this has had on me. I had just turned 5 when my father was killed. I never had a chance to know him. But reading others words, voluntary words of men who knew him, who served with him posted on a website….that’s impact.
What does it mean? I don’t know. Why is God putting all this in front of me now? I don’t know. But God is very loud right now, and I am listening intently.
