What 20 Years in the Military Taught Me About Faith

Lessons in discipline, integrity, service, sacrifice—and finding my way back to God

I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior in 1974 at the age of eleven at Eastside Baptist Church in Sumter, South Carolina, and was baptized in 1977.

Growing up, faith was simply part of life. I had two Christian parents, attended church, went to a Christian school, and was surrounded by fellow believers.

Then I grew up.

By the time I joined the Air Force, I had drifted. I was still attending church, but I was working full time, going to school full time and, if I'm being honest, partying full time.

Something had to change.

So I joined the Air Force.

At the time, I thought I was simply making a change in my life. Looking back, I believe God was already beginning to redirect me.

Discipline, Integrity and Service

The military taught me discipline from day one. Basic training was designed to break you down and build you back up. Everything had a standard, and you were expected to meet it whether anyone was watching or not.

That lesson became especially important when I became an aircraft mechanic.

When you work on an aircraft, somebody's life depends on you doing your job correctly. You follow the technical orders. You check your work. You don't cut corners.

The Air Force had three core values:

Integrity First. Service Before Self. Excellence in All We Do.

Looking back, I realize how closely those principles align with the Christian life.

Integrity means doing what is right when nobody is watching.

Service before self reminds me of Christ's command to love our neighbors and help those in need.

And excellence means doing the best you can, even when you don't feel like it.

Sometimes that even means getting up and going to church on a Sunday morning when you'd rather stay home.

I've noticed that on those mornings, I often hear exactly the message I needed.

Sometimes you have to do what you know is right before you feel like doing it.

What Leaders Taught Me

During twenty years in the military, I had some great leaders—and some not-so-great ones.

One supervisor stands out. He cared about his people. He listened to them, treated them like they mattered, was never afraid to roll up his sleeves and get dirty, and made changes when he could to improve things. He was also an incredible motivator.

He was the kind of man who could convince you to follow him into the depths of Hell if necessary, in a manner that would make you look forward to the trip.

Other leaders taught me lessons simply by showing me what leadership shouldn't look like.

Both experiences were valuable.

Good leaders taught me that people will follow someone who genuinely cares about them.

Bad leaders taught me how important that quality really is.

When Your Life Is in God's Hands

Over those twenty years, I served in the combat zones of Panama, Kuwait, Iraq and Afghanistan.

I've often looked back and wondered how I made it through all of that with medical records as thin as a wafer.

After retiring from the Air Force, I eventually returned to Iraq as a civilian contractor. We experienced multiple mortar attacks. One day, a mortar round hit one of the living quarters inside our compound.

It wasn't my room.

In fact, the person who lived there had just left for vacation earlier that day.

Was that coincidence?

I don't know.

I've always believed my life was in God's hands, even during the years when I wasn't living like it.

As I've grown closer to Him, I've come to understand that more deeply. I don't believe God promises that nothing bad will ever happen to us. But I do believe He is with us through whatever happens, and ultimately our lives belong to Him.

I also believe the faithful prayers of my parents played a part in keeping me safe. My mother has always told me she was praying for me—while I was deployed, stationed in another state, or simply going about my life.

Those prayers still mean something to me.

Iraq Changed Me

Iraq was different.

I was dealing with the job, the mortar attacks, and the stress of my marriage falling apart back home. My former wife had moved out, and eventually I reached a point where, when the warning alarms for incoming mortar fire sounded, I didn't even get out of bed to go to the bunker.

I simply didn't care whether I lived or died.

Looking back, I'm thankful God wasn't finished with me.

It was during that time that I began searching for answers.

I kept asking, “Why?”

Why was this happening?

Why me?

Why now?

Somewhere along the way, another question came to mind:

Why not me?

I'm no better than anyone else.

That realization led me back to God's Word, particularly the book of Job. Job was suffering, asking questions and looking for answers. Something I could relate to.

But I also began to understand that God doesn't always give us the answer to “why.”

Sometimes He gives us something better.

Himself.

The Prodigal Son Comes Home

My return to God wasn't dramatic. It happened slowly.

I found a church where I felt at home. I found a pastor who taught God's Word in a way that reminded me that we all sin—including the person standing behind the pulpit.

None of us are saved because we're good enough.

We're saved by the grace of God.

I've often described myself as the prodigal son—not the prodigal son returning to his earthly father, but the prodigal son returning to his Heavenly Father.

I had been saved.

I went my own way.

And yet God never stopped loving me.

He never stopped waiting.

During that period of my life, I also took up photography. I was looking for something that would slow the world down and make me pay attention to the small things.

Looking back, I realize I was searching for beauty in life.

And somewhere along the way, I found something far more beautiful.

I found a deeper relationship with God.

What I Know Now

The military taught me discipline.

It taught me responsibility, integrity, service, leadership and sacrifice.

But walking with God taught me something the military couldn't:

I'm not as good as I thought I was.

I can work hard and still fail.

I can accomplish a mission and still miss the bigger picture.

I can try to control my life and still end up somewhere I never intended to be.

That's where humility comes in.

Because none of us are good enough to earn God's grace.

We are sinners saved by grace.

Why Distressed America?

Five years ago, I purchased the domain Distressed America with the idea of creating a political blog website.

That's not where it ended up.

I believe God has led me in a different direction.

I'm not a pastor. I'm not trained in theology. I'm simply a man who has made mistakes, wandered away from God, and experienced His grace when I didn't deserve it.

My hope is simple:

Help someone navigate life. Help someone know they're not alone. And, if God allows it, help someone find their way to Christ—or find their way back to Him.

If something I write or create helps even one person, then it's worth it.

If I could sit down with the young man I was before joining the Air Force, I'd tell him this:

God loves you more than you'll ever understand.

The road ahead will be rough. There will be victories and failures. There will be times when you don't understand why things happen.

Stay in God's Word.

Surround yourself with people who will lift you up rather than drag you down.

Do what you know is right.

And don't let the world get you down.

After twenty years in the military, I thought I understood dedication.

I thought I understood discipline.

I thought I understood sacrifice.

But walking with God taught me something much deeper:

Stay humble.

Because in the end, I'm not the hero of this story.

I'm simply the prodigal son who found his way home.

A sinner saved by grace, hoping to help someone else find the way.