Heros

Heroes

Not long ago I was in the hospital having a stress echo test for my heart. There were two technicians assisting the Doctor with preparation for the test, Julie and George. They were fun people and I found it a privilege to get to know them. It sounds odd to say that I had fun having a medical test done, but its true, I had fun that day. George asked what precipitated my coming in for the test. I told them about how recently I was sitting in church and felt all tingly and faint and it had me worried. George asked if the experience had been an epiphany. I said no, it wasn’t. I know what those are, as I have had a few in my very full life. He commented that this was his reason for avoiding church. Interesting, I thought. Does George fear an encounter with God? I wish I had asked, but the question remained locked up underneath my tongue.

With a swift redirection of the topic, George slapped some multi-syllabic words on the condition I probably experienced that week prior. It is rare that I encounter words that I can’t at least derive a semblance of meaning, but being that my expertise has always been in the engineering, electronic, technical arena, the medical terms escaped me as if they were captive birds being set free and quickly flying off into the blue abyss. From my puzzled look George explained that the large words meant that I had experienced a near-fainting episode. He laughed as he explained that they used the large words so that I would feel better about the large bill that would be presented for the services that were provided. It was my turn to laugh, as it is all too true.

George soon was talking about heroes-- heroes from movies, heroes from real life stories. He had collected stories like trinkets from the many Veterans he had encountered in the last decade and a half of being a medical technician since his own stint as a medic in the Navy during the Gulf War encounter in Iraq. The time I had to endure the medical test evaporated like mist as I listened to George weave hero tales from the not-so-long-ago. One of George’s favorite hero stories left with me that day and hovered over my head and moved down into my heart. The truth of it was profound and I began to realize how its truths resonated in even this life that saw battle on a very different battlefront and the ripple effects of those truths began to take shape in my consciousness.

The story of the American GI’s taking the little seemingly insignificant island of Iwo JimaJapanese Islands--home. The Japanese resistance was exceedingly fierce. There was much face to be saved and for them to lose this island would be very dishonorable. was George’s favorite. Although our troops had fought against the Japanese on many islands in the Pacific before, this was the first one that was considered to be a part of the The General in charge of the island’s defense decided to use a different tactic than the Germans used on Normandy. The Germans started firing as soon as the Allies began to land. On Iwo Jima, the Japanese held fire until the Americans were well into the landing. Then they unleashed an intense fire that trapped many in a barrage of artillery fire and dense smoke. The advancing troops hardly knew where to step because they couldn’t see even an arm’s length ahead. Large numbers of men were pinned down with men dying on top of them. Then with strength and bravery mustered from deep within, some of the GI’s would return fire or do something to achieve an advancement for the troops. Their actions rallied the GI’s around them to also take action. The battle of Iwo Jima would eventually be won by this tactic and bold-faced bravery, with many casualties as the price.

The ones to take action in the face of intense fire, and the ones who lost life because of his action George dubbed the heroes as he concluded the story. How true! And how grateful we are to those heroes that preserved our freedom! Where would we be today without such a payment?

Those heroes on Iwo Jima remind me of my hero. Long before I was around He took action. He walked on the home turf of the enemy. He went to where the fire was most intense. He took all the artillery fire the enemy could muster, so that I would be set free from the multi-faceted prison that held me captive. The enemy thought that they had defeated Him, but they were out flanked and out maneuvered by my Hero. True, the enemy did nail Him to a cross and watched Him die. But He came back. He defeated death itself that I might really live and live in freedom. He broke the bondages of addictions and of unforgiveness in me. He placed His flag of love, forgiveness, and power on my soul. He allows me to live in freedom in this life and glory in the next. Who is my Hero? Jesus. He is the Hero of heroes.

As I approached my home after contemplating what I had heard and felt on the drive home, I thought about George. Oh, George! If you only knew what I know of this hero! Your search would be complete. You would not be collecting story trinkets, but you, too would be telling stories of truth and hope! And then I recalled many other Georges I have known over the years.

Let me weave my story of redemption from the pit of hell and tell you how my Hero took me from what most would label the point of no return, picked me up, set me free, and then shared His battle stratedgy with me and walked into the battle with me every step of the way.

“For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him” IIChron 16:9

“I, the Lord, will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.” Ps 32:8

“…If God be for us, who can be against us?—Who can be our foe if God is on our side? He who did not withhold or spare even His own Son but gave Him up for us all, will He not also with Him freely and graciously give us all other things?” Rom 8:31,32 amp