|Matthew 8:5-10,13 (NIV)|
The Faith of the Centurion (a professional soldier) --
| (5) When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, asking for help. (6)
"Lord," he said, "my servant lies at home paralyzed and in terrible
(7) Jesus said to him, "I will go and heal him."
(8) The centurion replied, "Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. (9) For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, 'Go,' and he goes; and that one, 'Come,' and he comes. I say to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it."
(10) When Jesus heard this, he was astonished and said to those following him, "I tell you the truth, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith..."
(13) Then Jesus said to the centurion, "Go! It will be done just as you believed it would." And his servant was healed at that very hour
A Prayer for our troops:
"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen."
When you see this, please stop for a moment and
say a prayer for our troops around the world.
|This year, when you are making out your Christmas card list, please consider sending one more:|
c/o Walter Reed Army Medical Center
6900 Georgia Avenue,NW
|A Soldier's Christmas Poem|
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.'
'It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at Pearl on a day in December,
Then he sighed, That's a Christmas Gram I'll always remember.
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of Nam,
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.
So go back inside, he said, harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'
But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
Give you money, I asked, or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.
|All rights reserved. Copyright 2007 by Michael Yon.|
|Captain's Quarters Blog|
|This picture shows Muslims and Christians restoring the cross to the top of St. John's Church in Baghdad. The Iraqis wanted Americans to see that they have unity at the ground level, and consider their Iraqi nationality more important than their sectarian differences. Even the Muslims in Baghdad rejoiced at the reopening of the Christian church, perhaps as a canary in the coal mine moment. If a Christian church can open its doors in Baghdad, then the Muslims know their mosques will be safe.|