Sometimes things happen in my life and I think…why me? Who else does this kind of stuff happen to? It usually involves me getting into situations that are comical, or poignant, or magical, but never horrifying (that is the only appropriate word.)
I met a guy about a month ago who said yes to the Marines and then to paid security work in Iraq. He said yes and then he lived something that was horrifying. Years later he is still dealing with the effects of it all. The horror of war changes people. And I will hopefully never know, even remotely, how horrifying it truly is. But he does.
And then what? What is next for a soul that sees what no human should see? What is next for a soul who carries the burden of guilt for being alive when others are dead? I have no idea. It’s Humpty Dumpty trying to put back together what has been shattered. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, Couldn’t put Humpty together again. And that brings me to tears.
I read a book today. It was a book about Mercenary Guy. In part anyway. I read and I read and I cried and I thought, “What a life.”
I felt proud of him. So proud. I felt compassion. I wished that I could make it all better for him too. The part of me who thinks people are good, screamed and cried. The book said that he had demons haunting him. I know this to be true.
I also know that no human can make those demons vanish. Nothing carnal either. Because revenge breeds more revenge. Bitterness breeds more bitterness. He has a hole in his heart that needs to be filled with something. It sucks the joy out of his life. It brings on tears. It leaves him empty.
All of us have holes to fill. All of us. But what are we filling those holes with? Busyness, and work for some. Sex and relationships for others. Drugs or alcohol. Hate and bitterness? God?
If we are so cracked up that the very king’s horses and soldiers who are supposed to rescue us can’t …where are we? Left broken? Forever?
I know in my heart I can’t, by sure will, or determination, or human love, be enough to fill that hole he has. So all I can do is pray. And not that trite stupid, placating type of prayer. My prayer for him will be the same as my prayer for Martin. For restoration. For healing. For a miracle that only God can manage. And I will pray it every day.
Only God can put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Cause he is a hopeless case otherwise. We all are. He will chase what will satisfy the hurt and the pain for the moment but it won’t last. It will always let him down. But God won’t. God on His terms. God not Christianity. Not a group of people who go to church. Not a set of rules that church comes up with to follow. The redemptive love that comes only from sacrifice of life itself is what will heal those cracks in his shell. It is only Jesus.
I’m humbled tonight. I’m sad. And I’m forever indebted to the service of men like him who gave so much, some their very lives, for me.