My Second Miracle of God
The Second Miracle in My Life, 40+ years ago.
People are still in lock-down across the country, so I will share here.
I will skip over the first miracle of my life and how I became a Christian some 40-something years ago. I will move forward to the second one.
At that time, the Vietnam War was tearing our country apart. Yet what God put before me was that the soldiers in the middle had become the lepers of our society, and related to that, many young men both in the service and out were committing suicide.
So, one day I got on my knees on the floor and prayed about it. What could I do about it? My prayer was very specific, and the guidance that I received was, “Yes, sign up.” I did and I asked for the army Chaplain’s Corps. At the time, however, I was thinking, you know, working in chapel, typing, polishing cool high-end candle sticks. That wasn't the assignment God gave me.
Well, the next thing I knew I was in South Carolina doing push-ups. It wasn’t all that difficult to be honest about it, and I have always had a very active prayer life that helps me deal with things.
So, one day in basic training they cattle-herded us into a huge airplane hangar. However, they had turned the lights out and we were led by sergeants holding red, nightlights. Then, with about 300 of us there they turned all the red lights out to make it completely pitch black.
Then slowly they turned on the sound of a C-130 cargo plane. And just as quickly, they turned it off. Then, a spotlight in the center of the stage, “Pop!” Then the sound of boots with taps on then walking in the dark towards that spot, “Click, click, click.”
They shined the spotlight on the man’s boots, and then the voice over, “Men! How many of you have volunteered to be paratroopers for your country?!” The room was dead silent.
Me? Well, … inside I busted up laughing! A paratrooper?! Me? I am from California. Are there surfboards in it? Campfires? Pretty girls on the beach sitting around playing guitars and singing? The whole thing was hilarious. It wasn't only me. Not one man out of the 300 yelled, “Ooorah!”
But, late that night I got on my knees. This was my prayer. I remember it very clearly:
Lord, I am not into carrying machine guns and jumping out of airplanes in the dark. However, you, you! If you put me in front of that door, and if you shove me through it, and if you tell me to do that, if those are the men you want me to serve, I’m in, but you will have to be crystal, crystal clear, Amen.
Okay, so off to Chaplain Assistant school where this surfboard kissing, California hippy, Jesus freak was number 35 out of number 36 graduates. Number 36 spoke mostly Spanish!
Yet, very oddly, they by some mistake in their computer, sent me to Fort Bragg. Now, I had not volunteered for the 82nd Airborne or Special Forces, so I wasn’t supposed to go there, nor was I qualified for it.
I will never forget the first truck at the airport. This truck shows up with all these men with green berets on, and they flew out of the truck. Each one had every imaginable scar on his face. I was standing there fresh out of Chaplain Assistant school looking more like I was carrying a butterfly collection. A green beret guy walked up to me and grabbed the orders out of my hand. Then, he said, “You are going to be with the 82nd. Wait, when the truck comes with the maroon berets, hand someone your orders." Believe me. The guy was charming.
Now, by that time I was praying quietly to myself, “God, where in the world did you send me?!”
Soon the other truck pulled up and it was for the paratroopers. They drove me to a center where they all started yelling again. You see, I was “out of uniform.” Right, I had no combat training patches sewn on, and worse, I hadn’t sewn on my paratroop wings patch yet. But that was easy. Not only did I not have one sewn on, but I didn't know what one was. It was hilarious because while they were screaming at me as if back in basic, I actually had no idea whatsoever what they were yelling about. "Wings? What, am I supposed to pin a chicken on me?"
Soon a jeep pulled up. A young chap came out who was wearing that maroon beret. In the US Army that means paratrooper. And he yells out, “Yeghian?!!!!!
Well, that was me, so I walked up. This was the only thing he said, “Get in the jeep.” A real conversationalist.
He drove me down to this office that had on its from wall "82nd Airborne Division Chaplain.” Then the friendly talkative fellow said, “Get ready to report to the Division Chaplain.” There is a certain hoky-poky that you have to do before meeting a high ranking officer.
He led me up the stairs, into the office, and then another very unfriendly chap said, “Go over to that door, prepare to report to senior officer, and then knock on the door. Then, go in, salute him, and report to who is the Division Chaplain."
Just like my prayer, they literally put me in front of that door. I knocked, opened the door, went in, and gave Colonel grumpy pants the best salute I could offer.
After proper military formalities, here is what the man behind the desk said:
“I’ve read your records. Yeghian, over the last five years not one American Christian has volunteer for the Chaplain Corps and to serve with my paratroopers. In fact, I don’t have a single Chaplain School trained Chaplains Assistant serving with any of my brigades. All of them are jump trained infantrymen whom we have pulled out for Chaplain Assistant duty. Do you know a Christian, Chaplain School trained man who will volunteer to jump with my men and serve with them if they are called to serve our nation?”
All army guys have their names sewn on their shirts. Guess what the 82nd Airborne Division Chaplain’s legal last name was?
Chaplain L …. O …..R…..D, Division Chaplain Lord.