The dogwood stick, not just another stick
One of your jitterbugger’s missions in life–really one of our missions in ministry–is to make as many people as possible painfully aware of the fact that we are a nation at war–and that war is hell, and that war is hell on families. Just last night I was in the ICU at the hospital where I’m chaplain, talking to a RN whose son is in the Army in Iraq. She told me her son, 21, is in a barracks a few hundred feet from a minefield. She started weeping as she talked about how worrisome it is having her only child in that situation. And she’s was a “Navy brat.” Her brother is a colonel in the Army, currently assigned to the Pentagon, and their father was career Navy. So military life is nothing new to her. What’s new is the intense worry she can’t escape having her “baby” in Iraq. And it doesn’t help that her baby’s there at Christmastime. Like so, so many military moms and dads and other relatives I talk to all the time, this nurse sometimes feels like the Americans who don’t have family ties to war don’t care or don’t want to be bothered with war and military news. And she brought up something I noticed a long time ago.
Remember those days leading up to the invasion of Iraq, and the months and years that followed, how it seemed that about every vehicle you saw on the freeways and highways had a “Support our Troops” sticker?
Notice how few you see of those today now that the reality of war has had a sobering effect on us all?
I’m not much on that kind of sloganeering anyway. If you really support the troops, find a way to give of your money or time–sacrifice something–to help out our troops and their families. There’s plenty of ways to support the troops rather than bumper sticker support.
But I digress.
I told this nurse I think the American people do care, but are so distracted by their own economic fears, their own family stuff, and so distracted by all the no-count news of everyday life (news flash: Tiger’s mom was taken to hospital at 2:30 this morning; Day Umpteen of Tiger’s titillating downfall; film at 11), that it’s hard for people to stay mindful of two wars being waged. Still, this nurse and mother, like so many military families, feels that if we’re serious about war–make that the wars plural–we should all be sacrificing something.
I know what she means. People want painless war, and that’s not how war works. War, as Homer said, “consumes everything in its path.” All that said, here’s an interesting article from a United Methodist journalist/communicator who’s had an awakening where war is concerned. She’s heard a lot of real war stories and says she won’t ever be quite the same as a result. Her reference to “Joining Hands” is the East Ohio Conference newspaper. For more go to http://www.eocumc.com/joininghands/fall09/toc.html
Did I mention to pray for our military forces and their families???
Did I mention to pray for all those innocent men, women and children in the war zones who suffer death and losses that we can’t really fathom?
God bless America, God bless our troops. God bless all six billion-plus of God’s children in this broken and lost world in which everyone stands in need of God’s grace.
COMING HOME
RETURNING FROM WAR
Untouched by War … until now.
By Kay Panovec, director of East Ohio Communincations
East Ohio Conference, United Methodist Church
It’s just a stick. A long, crooked, dogwood stick decorated with a Purple Heart, military pins, feathers, beads and memories. But when it is in your hands, … all eyes turn to you. All mouths are closed except your own. Your memories become theirs, your stories, their stories, your feelings, their feelings. There are moments of laughter, of tears, of forgiveness, of hope. And sometimes, there is just silence.
When we decided to dedicate an issue of Joining Hands to Welcoming Soldiers Home from War, I had no idea where God would lead. I found myself in living rooms, restaurants, walking in a field, sitting in my office, and finally, in a circle of veterans listening to soldiers and their families sharing their stories with me. It is difficult to imagine that I will ever be the same.
I have no personal experience with war – never served in the military – but I have a few childhood memories of wearing a copper bracelet with the name of a soldier who was missing in action. Too young to remember Vietnam well but I have memories of the bombing of a United States military barracks in Beirut, The Gulf War, and the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan following 9/11. I remained detached, other than offering prayers for soldiers and their families and contributing to a care package now and then.
Embarrassingly, I admit that like the newspaper, I buried any real stories or thoughts I had about the war, in the back pages of my mind. Out of sight, out of mind. If I didn’t know that people were suffering, if I didn’t hear of the struggles that families have, if I didn’t have to look at photos of the dead, I could pretend that the whole situation didn’t exist. But it does.
Until now, I had no idea the sacrifices that are made every day by families of military personnel like a woman who faced life-threatening surgery while her husband was deployed and unable to reassure her or just hold her hand while she recovered. Or the young family who lost their home when their income was cut in half after the soldier was called up. Or the young man who cannot wait to return to war because it is less frightening to him than trying to fit in here at home.
As United Methodists, we can welcome the soldier home with more than just a handshake and an “atta boy” or an “atta girl.” None of the soldiers I spoke to see themselves as heroes but rather people who did their job and finished their mission to the best of their ability. Some need to talk about it; some never will.
In a room illuminated by candlelight, holding the talking stick, a Vietnam Vet directed his comments to an Operation Iraqi Freedom Vet: “I want to say thank you for your service and that I am glad you are here. I left Vietnam in the ’70s but it has taken me 40 years to finally come home. I pray that it won’t take you as long.”
This issue of Joining Hands is dedicated to the memory of those who have lost their lives as a result of war – any war. And to the people who live with the effects of war, every day.
