HER NAME IS SUMAR

I received an email a few weeks ago from one of my subscribers telling me about her nephew, a handsome young soldier. She sent me a copy of a true story he had written about one of his experiences while serving in Iraq. I was so moved by the story that I asked for permission to tell it to the world by way of a web page, and I'm happy to say that Andrew gave his permission. I hope you will be as touched by his story as I was, if you are please share it with your friends and relatives. And let us pray that all of our young men and women will soon be coming home from Iraq.----Mary Jones

(May 30, 2005)

Another unit's HMV was hit with an IED (roadside bomb)while driving through our area.

(May 31, 2005) Our PX (Post Exchange) is mortared, killing one.

(June 1, 2005) VBIED (car bomb) is detonated outside our main gate, killing several.

(June 2, 2005) One could imagine what thoughts were going through my mind as I was starting my shift on June the second.

The day prior, while out on patrol, my squad had noticed a large piece of worthless machinery on the side of the road. It was sitting outside rotting with rust and without any hesitation you could say confidently it was a piece of junk. With all of the recent insurgent activities in our area my sqaud leader wanted the piece of rotting machinery moved to a near by empty lot. The reason for this necessary move was because if we left it on the road it would only be a matter of time before the insurgents would place an IED there. During the time that one of our HMV's moved into position to work on moving the piece of machinery, I was pulling security with the rest of my squad. Almost immediately Iraqi Nationals started coming out of their houses to see what the Americans were doing and their faces did not seemed pleased.

"Great. just what we need." I thought to myself. Immediately my squad leader and our female interpreter, Amal, went over to them to explain what we were doing, only to be greeted with a storm of anger. The sound of small arms gunfire in the not too far distance could be heard bouncing off the building walls.

A feeling of fear came over me but I was fighting hard not to let it show. "Lord, come quickly!" I said to myself, the weight from the fear was getting too heavy for me. And then something happened, something completely unexpected.

While scanning my sector I turned around and saw the most beautiful sight I had seen in months. A young Iraqi girl clinging tightly to her doll was looking straight into my eyes, smiling so sweetly she looked like a little angel to me. I learned a short time later the child's name was Sumar and that she was seven years old.

At that very moment all my fears left and my spirit was at peace. "Thank you Father." I said to myself. Behind my Oakley sunglasses, my eyes began to fill with tears.

"Hey Sergeant! you alright?" one of my guys shouted to me. I replied with the usual, "Yeah I'm OK, it's just that sweat keeps getting in my eyes and stinging them." (I can be such a liar when I have to, good one Andrew, real smooth).

I could see that my squad leader and Amal were failing miserably trying to explain to the Iraqi locals what we were doing. Junk or not they were standing their ground, because all they saw was Americans moving something that didn't belong to them. And there was no way that my squad leader would give in because of the possible threat to his men.

Poor Amal was trying hard to explain everything to the predominantly male crowd. The locals were not going to listen to a female (remember this is Iraq and not the states). They began raising their voices and hurling insults at Amal. They called her every demeaning word for a woman they could think of in their language. While I was watching what was going on I heard sobbing. I turned around and saw Sumar crying as though her little heart was breaking. Even though she was only seven she knew full well that the words that were being exchanged were not very nice and they were enough to bring her to tears.

When I saw Sumar my heart was instantly filled with compassion. I didn't just see an Iraqi child. I saw my daughter Reagan (whom I had yet to meet). I saw my nieces Taylor, Katlyn, and Emma.

I went to little Sumar as a father would to their child in need (as my Father had come to me moments earlier), and held out my arms to her. I knelt down on my knees beside her and much to my surprise she gave me one of the biggest hugs and kisses on the cheek that I have ever received. Many of the Iraqi National's looked over at Sumar and her new friend and began to leave the area (I stayed by her side holding her hand until the rest of the storm cleared) What made that day a success was not just the fact that a possible threat was eliminated (moving the piece of junk), but most importantly a storm was calmed through the everlasting love of a Father.

Then they (the disciples) cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and He brought them out of their distress. He stilled the storm to a whisper, the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad when it grew calm, and he guided them to their desired haven."

Then He got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Without warning a furious storm came upon the sea, so that the waves swept over the boat.

(As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so men are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them)

But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke Him, saying; "Lord save us, we're going to drown!"He replied, " Oh you of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the waves, and it was completely calm. The men were amazed and asked; "What kind of man is this that even the winds and the waves obey him?"

The same man that calmed this storm is the same Spirit who calmed my storm that day in Iraq, the same God that spoke everything into existence, and the same Father who has unconditonal love for His children.

When life gets uncomfortable and there are storms in our lives God doesn't promise that He is going to take us out of the storm but He does promise that He will be with us while we are in the storm.

"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a man who built his house on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash."

This story is about what happened on one particular day while serving my country in the Iraq war. There have been many more storms in my life since that memorable day , and there will be many more to come. My house (me) is built on the foundation of the Rock (Christ). No enemy and no storm can move it! The One whom I serve has yet another name, "The Rock". (Psalm 18:31,46).

To those of little faith, "Remember there are lots of nice things you can do with sand but do not try building your house on it!" --- C.S. Lewis

HOME AT LAST

Andrew with his lovely wife Elyshia and beautiful daughter Reagan

True Story Written by Sgt. Andrew Mullikin

Page Design By Mary Jones

May 2007

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