On March 20, 2003, my youngest son and his Marine unit crossed the central desert of Iraq on their way to Bagdad. The war had just begun.
He was twenty-one years old at the time. At home on that day, his high school friends worried about college classes, making it to work on time, and what to plan for Saturday night.
I had spent every moment since his deployment in January, praying for his safety, though I acknowleded that God’s will would be done. Because of the seriousness of war, I, and many others, prayed that God would cover my precious son with His angels, so that he would have the strength and courage to face whatever happened.
My son came home that year in September, and he shared many miraculous escapes from death. The most amazing happened on March 20th.
As they crossed the desert, a huge sandstorm blew in. It was so blinding that they “circled the wagons,” silenced their radios, and waited for it to abate. They were defenseless in the storm. They occasionally saw flashes of light up ahead, but lightening sometimes accompanies these sandstorms.
The next day the Air Force told them that a huge contingent of Iraqi army had crossed the desert during the storm. What they had seen were explosions and gun fire. Had the smaller Marine unit continued on their route, they would have crossed paths. They would have been among the first casualties of the war. The Air Force said the sandstorm had saved their lives.
Between you and me, God sent His angels to stir up the sandstorm. They had saved the Marines’ lives in answer to our prayers.