Thoughts On A Given Day

God speaks in strange and unusual ways. I used to know nothing about revelation. I am not fully educated now, but I am a little bit better informed than I used to be. The first time I saw the words, The Doctrine Of Revelation, they were being used as a chapter heading in a textbook of systematic theology. In my ignorance I believed it was going to be a dissertation about John’s Revelation, which is, of course, the last book in the Bible. I was wrong. The doctrine of revelation speaks about how God has revealed himself to, and communicated with, mankind. God’s revelation of himself throughout history has been consistent, varied, and always awe inspiring. In this current age God has provided us with a record of much of his revelation to us in the Bible, but he has always revealed himself, whether or not it was in written form. In Paul’s letter to the Romans he states that “since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made.” (Romans 1:20 NIV) We can see God’s revelation, but we can also hear it. There are numerous references in the Bible to people with whom God spoke directly. Abraham, Moses, Samuel, Paul – these are just a few names from a long list. What I would like to speak about here is one time that God communicated to me in a powerful way.

Once upon a time (I have always wanted to use that line) in Iraq I was driving the lead vehicle for a group of soldiers providing security for a military convoy. That was my battalion’s mission there. We would marry up with convoys carrying supplies north out of Kuwait and into Iraq, and we would stay with them until we safely returned them back to Kuwait. A short mission lasted a day. My longest mission lasted fourteen days. Before we left Iraq, we were told by a General, who had come to give out various awards and medals, that we had put in five million miles on Iraqi roads and had been attacked one hundred and sixty two times during our one year of service there. I suppose I should not have been surprised to learn that someone was actually counting and keeping track of all those reports turned in from our missions, but I was.

This particular mission was to Ramadi, which was a three day drive from the Kuwaiti border. We were on the return trip when we were attacked. It was night, and we were between Baghdad and Scania, which was somewhat of a rest stop with gas, showers, food, ice, maintenance, and tents that the military had built on the side of the highway for stopovers on long convoys. We were attacked at a choke point. What this means is that there was a four lane highway that choked down into one lane at a place where the original bridge had been destroyed and replaced with a one lane military bridge. Traffic going both north and south had to stop there and wait their turn to cross the bridge one vehicle at a time. This was obviously a slow process, and it created a great opportunity for the enemy to attack slow moving vehicles. That night they took advantage of their opportunity.

Any military unit operates with what is referred to as an SOP, Standard Operating Procedure. There is always a plan of action, something that has been discussed, rehearsed, and etched in stone. That night I broke SOP. I was driving the lead platform, which is military jargon for a semi armored Humvee with a driver, a gunner manning a .50 caliber machine gun or other automatic weapon, and a right seat rider. We also had a scout vehicle, which was out in front of us, and we had several more security vehicles scattered throughout the convoy providing what we liked to refer to as 360 degree security, which means we had weapons all over the place. According to SOP, in a firefight at a chokepoint such as this bridge was, the scout vehicle was to pull over and return fire, as were any of the other armed security vehicles with an available line of fire. The lead vehicle was to lead the convoy forward until safely past the kill zone (point of attack), and there we would establish a rally point. At the rally point we would regroup, rearm, and attend to any damage to personnel or vehicles. We had approximately half of our vehicles across the bridge when the attack began, and I must say that the enemy had planned some things very well. The location was great. We were stopped, and to a certain extent, at a disadvantage. They also had at least one heavy automatic weapon capable of destroying some of the vehicles in our convoy if it had been enabled to do so. They did, however make some mistakes, and they forfeited their lives for those mistakes.

The convoy was slowly moving forward, allowing time for the vehicles to catch up with the main group as they finished crossing the bridge. Suddenly the night was lit up as our vehicles were sprayed with automatic fire laced with tracers. That was their first mistake. Tracers allowed them to see what they were hitting, but it also allowed us to see where the fire was coming from, which was on a small hill on the northbound side of the highway in a mud hut . Their second mistake was setting up their largest automatic weapon on a tripod that was zeroed in on a specific kill zone that we had not quite reached yet. I cannot say whether they were incapable of adjusting that weapon or if they simply failed to do so. What I do know is that it proved entirely ineffective that night in spite of the fact that it should have been a deadly weapon in their arsenal.

The scout vehicle immediately pulled over to the left and began returning fire. Other security vehicles further back in the convoy began returning fire as well. I immediately stepped on the gas and began leading the convoy forward at a high rate of speed as was intended. Suddenly, however, just as I passed the scout vehicle to my left, something demanded that I stop the vehicle, and I slammed on the brakes, causing the entire convoy to grind to an immediate halt. I had not planned to stop. It was not SOP. SOP  required that I go forward, but I stopped. On that dark night, with tracers blazing all around, I heard a voice in my head shout “Stop!”, and I did. Immediately in front of our vehicle we saw a massive stream of automatic fire laced with tracers hitting the pavement in front of us. It never changed trajectory until it stopped. When it did I stomped the gas and we surged forward.

Later, at the rally point, drivers of vehicles further back in the convoy came forward demanding to know why we had stopped. Why had we not followed SOP? I had no problem understanding why they were asking. Others, who were within sight of the kill zone where that automatic fire was aimed, stepped forward on my behalf and let them know that if we had not stopped at exactly that second, some of us would have been killed. They were in awe of exactly what had transpired. As it turned out, we had only one soldier, from the scout vehicle, who sustained a slight scratch on his face when he stepped out of his vehicle to return fire with his individual weapon. The enemy, however, had been completely destroyed.

The question could be asked, whose voice did I hear? There was no way for me to know that the kill zone was directly in front of us, so I rule out the concept of my subconscious mind seeing something and understanding a situation that my conscious mind had not quite absorbed yet. I know it was God. He spoke. I heard, and I responded. Lives were saved. The reality is that I never doubted, not for a second, that I had heard the voice of God giving me a command. I am so thankful that I obeyed.

We are a people thirsty for a word from God, but all too often we ignore his voice. God reveals himself to us and communicates to us all the time, but we do not always hear his voice, and we certainly don’t always obey it. I am no different. Sometimes we don’t recognize his voice, but sometimes we ignore it and go our own direction. Let me repeat, I am so thankful that, at least on this one occasion, I heard his voice, and I obeyed.

 

1 Samuel 3:3-10

New International Version (NIV)

3 The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli. In those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions.

² One night Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see, was lying down in his usual place. ³ The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the house of the Lord, where the ark of God was. ⁴ Then the Lord called Samuel.

Samuel answered, “Here I am.” ⁵ And he ran to Eli and said, “Here I am; you called me.”

But Eli said, “I did not call; go back and lie down.” So he went and lay down.

⁶ Again the Lord called, “Samuel!” And Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, “Here I am; you called me.”

“My son,” Eli said, “I did not call; go back and lie down.”

⁷ Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord: The word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him.

⁸ A third time the Lord called, “Samuel!” And Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, “Here I am; you called me.”

Then Eli realized that the Lord was calling the boy. ⁹ So Eli told Samuel, “Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

¹⁰ The Lord came and stood there, calling as at the other times, “Samuel! Samuel!”

Then Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”