In a section entitled "The Power of Stories", Mycoskie states, "Stories are the most primitive and purest form of communication...a good story transcends boundaries, breaks barriers, and opens doors." I've never really thought about the impact of stories, no matter how many times I asked my mom or dad to tell me a story when I was a child (and they would tell you that that was not a low number). It hit me that God gives us all stories for a reason. And here is mine:
I grew up in a loving home, with incredible God-fearing parents who would drop everything the second I needed something. We had family devotions, took family vacations, watched movies together - normal family stuff. But that all changed when the phone rang one day in March of 2004. I answered, and as usual, it was for my dad. After he got off the phone, he called me and my mom into the living room and told us that he had been put on active duty and would be serving a tour in Iraq. My perfect little sheltered world had been turned upside down the second that our country had declared war. The day that I had sat in my daddy's lap and cried about when the twin towers fell had finally come. My dad was going to serve our country.
Those 18 months were far from easy. We didn't talk everyday and when we did, the connection wasn't great. We never knew what the next phone call would bring or what we would see on the evening news. He couldn't tell us where he was or what he was doing most of the time - the only thing that we knew for sure was that he was "making Iraq his mission field." And that he did. He asked me and my mom to hold a collection at our church for soccer balls and school supplies for his troop to distribute to the children they came in contact with in Iraq. We did and sent over 600 soccer balls for him to give out! Those 18 months slowly came to an end and I finally had my world back (I'm a daddy's girl if you can't tell). November of 2005 marked a return to normalcy for my family - or so we thought.
It was May 27, 2006. It was a beautiful and relaxing Saturday and my dad spent it working in the yard. I can't remember what I was doing - probably on AIM all day along with every other middle schooler. My mom was getting her nails done. I decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. Before I left, my dad was sitting under a tree cooling off and asked me to take a tool that he had borrowed back to a neighbor. I did and then left. The second my house came back into view, I knew something was wrong - I can't explain that feeling still to this day. I ran the rest of the way and found that my dad had suffered a heart attack. I immediately got my neighbors who were nurses, called 911, and called my mom to tell her what had happened. Despite every effort possible, my father went to be with the Lord that day. My heart was absolutely broken. I was only gone for 10 minutes, but those 10 minutes had changed my life forever. My world had once again fallen apart, but this time, it would never return to "normalcy" again.
But the story doesn't end there. Later, our neighbor told us about a conversation he had had with my dad the previous day. I don't remember what they were talking about anymore, but I do remember that my dad had said the exact words, "If I die tomorrow, I'll die a happy man." This can only be seen as a message from the Lord. The despair that I was feeling slowly (VERY slowly) gave way to inspiration. Anyone that knew my dad would probably describe him with that very same word: an inspiration. He was the most selfless, caring person I have ever met. And that brought him a life full of happiness.
So I decided to follow in my dad's footsteps. His unit returned to Iraq my senior year of high school and I decided to tell my story first to my church and then at my high school to collect soccer balls and school supplies that would be sent to the children in Iraq once again. It was a great success and the men of the 278th were very thankful to be taking a part of something that had meant so much to my dad, SGM Kervin, Peacemaker 35.
This brings me to my reason for picking up Blake Mycoskie's book. There has been a desire in my heart for some time now to start a permanent organization, similar to what my dad was doing, for kids in Iraq. I'm not 100% sure what the organization's purpose will be, how it will work, or how it will be funded - basically I know nothing. I've thrown ideas around in my mind about something sports-related or even health-related since I am going into the nursing field. I'm not worried about it - it will be made clear to me in God's time.
So for now, I'll simply start with my story.
No comments:
Post a Comment