The Online Chaplain

The Bible in my Ruck

It is midnight on the eve of war. The house is quiet. Everything that needed to be said has been. The new man of the house, our thirteen year old son Ben, has been given final instructions. My daughter Abby took things in stride and just kissed me good night. My youngest does not understand the concept of time and was impervious to the day. Our eldest insulated by college.

The last thing to be packed in my rucksack is my bible. Then, I lay holding my wife while she slept, or pretended too. Morning came, the deployment began, fears were conquered, nineteen months spent at war, the family grew strong, and we overcame.

Sometime in the early months I realized the mistake I made on the eve of war. The last thing I packed was not my bible, it was Bev's. Every few years she and I go shopping for bibles. So, our bible is always the same, except in the front of hers it says, "presented to Beverly Bjertness by Corey Bjertness". And in the front of mine it says "presented to Corey Bjertness by Beverly Bjertness". So, it was at the least an honest mistake.

Thus, in a moment, on the eve of war the two chief symbols of hope married together in an oversight, creating for me the perfect reminder of life. Two things have taken me to the other side of war - the love of a woman and the love of the word. Both have been tested through fire. Both have stood the test. Both have endured my sorrow and my joy. Both have been stronger than I.

What does the love a good woman and the faithfulness of God’s word get you? It gets you to the other side. It gets you to the place called hope in the midnight of your despair. It finds the island of peace in the sea of war. It finds the mountain of contentment on the plains of restlessness. It gets you to the other side.

When I look at the bible in my rucksack it is not a book, it’s a symbol. It is a symbol of God providing for my every need and then taking time to remind me of this very fact. Perhaps, pilfering Bev’s bible on the eve of war was not my oversight, but God’s foresight. God knew I would need the constant reminder of his presence and care in my life. Perhaps…I dare to hope in a God that cares about the little things.

"…for love is as strong as death, passion fierce as the grave.  Its flashes are of fire, a raging flame.  Many waters cannot quench love, neither can it be drown, nor purchased."             Song of Solomon 8:6-7

The 4th of July

Lately, I have heard a number of people (intellectuals) comment that patriotism and faith do not mix well.  Their claim has been that somehow being patriotic and Christian are opposing ideologies.  Sometimes, pastors will not even allow the American flag to be in the sanctuary of the church.  I would like to present a differing viewpoint for your consideration.

Psalm One begins by saying, "Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked…but his delight is in the law of the Lord and on that Law he meditates day and night."  The word 'meditate' in this verse is also the Hebrew word for remember, and the word "Law" is also the word for teaching.  So, to paraphrase this passage I would say, "Blessed is the person….who remembers what God has taught them."  As Christians, we are the remembering folks.  We remember the blessings and the teachings of God.

On this 4th of July I remember these things.  In forty-four years no one has ever oppressed me.  There have been no invading armies.  There has been no threat on my life.  I have had the freedom to come and go as I please.  I have chosen my career and made all major decisions in my life without coercion.  I elect my leaders, whereas half of the planet’s leaders have become so by force.  Soon, I will be able to get in my car and drive to either of my nation’s seashores.  There would be no checkpoints and no armed guards to question my travel.  All of this I enjoy, although I have not paid for it.  It is the product of a developing ideology called democracy that has produced a nation where no one person, group or entity is able to suppress another.

As Christian Patriots, our role is simply to remember.  Not with a blind ignorance and complacency, but with a grateful, informed and remembering heart.  The flag and the 4th of July are not graven images.  They are reminders to remember with grateful hearts.  So, let us remember to join in one voice and say, "We will not forget!"

Reintegration Tip #3 Try Some Vitameatavegamin. It’s good for you.

My favorite episode of "I Love Lucy" was the one with Vitameatavegamin.  It was the cure all for everything.  Just think if you went to the doctor and found out you were pregnant.  The doctor says, "Don’t worry, I have just the thing.  Vitameatavegimin."  Then later you go to the doctor with a broken arm, "Don’t worry, I have just the thing.  Vitameatavegimin."  Awhile late you get the flu, "Don’t worry, I have just the thing.  Vitameatavegimin."  It won’t be long and you will be looking for a new doctor.  The answers he gives are to easy, to prescribed, to casebook.

There is all kinds of loss in life.  The loss of expectation.  The loss of relationship.  Time. Everything in life can be evaluated in terms of loss.  After twenty years of listening to stories of loss I  can say with assurance I have learned one thing for sure.  All loss is unique.  Each person brings a unique recipe to loss.  So, two people who have the same type of loss experience it completely different.  You can not go to the medicine cabinet and get your Vitameatavegamin out and apply it to every wound and injury.

Soldiers, and those who love them are unique too.  You can not go to your standard, prescribed, easy to follow instruction book on how to help a soldier.  The soldier and the environment of war is to dynamic to classify.  There is no recipe to follow.  One soldier saw constant change in his environment, and his personality.  Yet, another guarded a two acre RRP in the middle of nowhere and the only change he saw was the passing of time.  There is no recipe.  So, here is how you can help soldiers…

God gave you two ears and one mouth in the hopes that you would do the math.  Listen before you prescribe.  Listen long, listen hard, listen till your ears hurt, listen until you are trusted.  On the Mount of Transfiguration the Apostle Peter wouldn’t keep his big mouth shut and finally God said, "This is my beloved son, listen to him."  America is about to receive four thousand of it’s beloved sons and daughters home again.  Many more to come and many have gone before us.  I wonder if it has the patience to listen?