Whenever our pastor prays for church members heading out on travel—or off to college—or deployment—he prays for the Lord to keep them “close and clean.”
What does that mean? Close and clean?
Clearly our pastor’s prayer is not just for those venturing away from our church on assignment—it is for all of us.
“Hope Unseen” – The Testimony of Captain Scotty Smiley
Excellent or Praiseworthy is posted on Monday and Thursday nights.
I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. — Philippians 4:13
My husband and I had the privilege of meeting Captain Scotty Smiley and his wife, Tiffany, while they were stationed at Ft. Monroe in Virginia. We were told that Scotty was the Army’s first blind active-duty officer and that a significant part of his ability to stay on active duty involved a decision made by his wife during the early days of hospitalization following his injury in Iraq. We knew that this story would be a fascinating one—so when his book came out recently we wasted no time reading it. It was one of those Christmas presents which we read before Christmas—and then got more copies to give to others.
Hope Unseen is a book, a story, about relationships. It is the story of Smiley’s friendships at West Point as a cadet, his love of his family, his trust of his comrades in arms in Iraq, the support of his friends, family and fellow soldiers after the bombing incident and his recovery, his love for his wife and sons, the leadership which he is now modeling and teaching at West Point and his deep relationship with his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Although blind, Capt. Smiley, the recipient of the 2007 Army Times Soldier of the Year award, has a clear vision of his purpose in sharing his story with audiences: “I speak because I believe God has called me to share my story as a help to others in difficult times. I overcome my fear (of speaking) in the hope that my pain will help ease someone else’s and that the triumphs God has given me will inspire others. Selfishly, I speak because it helps me heal.” (p. 154)
Describing one of his first speaking engagements to a military audience after his rehabilitation he wrote, “I told them the rest of the story. Surgery. Darkness. Paralysis. Desperation. Hospitals. Finality. Struggles. Recovery. Family. Friends. God. . . . Chances were that several of these future officers would die in combat. Some would come home severely wounded, maybe even blind. They would struggle with their new lives; they would need a light in the darkness. I hoped what I had to say would be an encouragement to them in the future. Life goes on, and we can still triumph in the midst of adversity. I didn’t brag about any of my successes—surfing or skiing or getting into Duke (MBA program). But because of those successes, I found I believed in my own message. It was authentic. If we don’t give up, we can live.” (pgs. 199,200)
But it is the story of their marriage which we especially want to pass along to you as an encouragement:
Tiffany Smiley, like so many military wives, is a remarkable woman. Scotty wants his readers to know this, and to know of their shared calling, expressed in the early pages of the book: “Selfless service means loving your soldiers. Selfless service also means letting your husband love his soldiers instead of you sometimes. I wrote in my journal 133 times while in Iraq. One hundred and one times, I talked about how much I loved my wife, how much I missed her, and about how much I longed to see her again. I love my wife as much as any man ever has, and maybe because she knew that, Tiffany gave part of me away to the army.” (p. 55,56)
Because of his debilitating injury, Tiffany faced the tough task of signing Scotty’s medical retirement papers shortly upon his arrival at Walter Reed. She sensed strongly that this was a decision Scotty should make—not her. She needed advocacy in order to deviate from “the system.” Because of their strong network of friends she was able to navigate those unchartered waters. Once Scotty had become sufficiently conscious and could understand his new physical condition, he was able to initiate the remarkable task of proving to the Army that he was still useful and fit as an officer, although in some new capacity.
Tiffany stood beside him, walked beside him, and ministered to him in every way during that battle and many others in the first eighteen months after his return from combat. Her commitment was “for better or for worse,” and she knew that she was living the “for worse.” Her words spoken at the wedding altar in 2003 were the commitment of her heart—and still are. At one particularly low point, she turned to the Lord in prayer and begged, “’Lord . . . nothing else matters. I don’t care about Scotty’s eyes. Just give him a heart for You. Help him to hear You, feel You, and trust You. . . .’” (p. 117)
That was not the first prayer she had prayed, nor is it the only prayer of Tiffany’s in Hope Unseen. After one powerfully tender time of crying out to God and receiving His peace as a warm spirit of calm, she told Scotty, “’If you died . . . . I knew that I would be okay. And if you lived, I knew that God was going to use your life for great things. And at that moment, in some way that I can’t explain, I felt like I had no preference. Somehow I trusted God that much. I trusted that either way, you would be okay. And I would be okay too.’” (p. 84)
So it is this couples’ story which is told in Hope Unseen: The Story of the U.S. Army’s First Blind Active-Duty Officer—their relationship and many other significant relationships along the way in their journey through rehabilitation and recovery. In his new role as an instructor at West Point Capt. Smiley passes along his “lessons learned” and those shared by others, including his friend Jeff Van Antwerp who taught him that “Soldiers run on relationships.”
Half-way through the book there is a paragraph which summarizes the Smileys’ shared vision, “’The me who could see was used to climbing mountains and thanking God for coming along. The me who could not see was totally dependent. “You need to trust Me, Scotty,” I sensed God telling me “And you need to depend on others.” I can do all things. There is nothing in the Bible that qualifies that statement, nothing that says I need eyes. It says only that I need Christ. It was a truth that my blindness was going to help me see. My confidence was being moved away from self—from my own ability to see and control—to a new hope, a hope unseen.’” (p. 148)
Do you know this hope—this hope unseen? His name is Jesus Christ.
Work Cited:
Smiley, Captain Scotty with Doug Crandall, Hope Unseen: The Story of the U.S. Army’s First Blind Active-Duty Officer (New York: Howard Books, 2010)
Questions to Share:
- In your marriage, have you thought through what it would take to care for your spouse in days which might seem to be “for worse”?
- Supernatural strength for “impossible” situations can come from only One Source, God. Do you know Him? Go to 4spirituallaws.com
This Post Has 0 Comments