HOLY WEEK: Being always mindful of life’s blessings

God literally saved me physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually

By W. Thomas Smith Jr.

As we begin HOLY WEEK – Palm Sunday through Holy Wednesday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, then Resurrection Sunday (Easter) – I am reminded of God’s blessings over the course of my life so far. In fact, for His own purposes and for the particular missions (some known, some unknown) He has for me in this world which I only marginally understand and even more feebly carry out, God has literally saved or preserved my physical life numerous times.

A BOY NEARLY DROWNED

First, there were two near-drownings as a teenager – once at Forest Lake in Columbia, S.C., when I was about 14-years-old and I truly believed I wasn’t going to survive (I still have nightmares about Forest Lake and exhaustion setting in as I was alternating between drownproofing and breast-stroking, vomiting, and praying for the shoreline) and another in the Saluda River rapids when I was about 16. But we’ll save those incidents for another story.

Years later, I was a passenger during two separate aircraft emergencies (one over Texas in a USAF C-141 as a young college student and another years later in a USAF C-130 as a middle-aged war correspondent over Iraq).

BOSNIA TO IRAQ

Then there were the extremely dangerous environs and experiences during clashes on the West Bank in the Spring of 1997; and of course, Slovenia, Croatia, and Bosnia in 1995. Years later during the Iraq War, fighting literally swirled around me from my varying vantage points – Basra to Baghdad, west to Fallujah, points around Al Taqaddum, all across Al Anbar Province and up toward the ratlines on the Iraqi-Syrian border. And then in 2007, there were the adventures in Dahiyeh “Hezbollah-land” South Beirut, Lebanon. Again, all stories for another day, but stories of divine physical protection all the same.

A STREAMER AND A DIRT BIKE

There were also multiple dangerous experiences here at home over the years including two car accidents in my early teens around the same time-frame as the lake and river incidents, a parachute malfunction when I was all of 19-years-old (a streamer which thankfully blossomed into a full canopy seconds before I was about to deploy my reserve chute during my first-ever jump in 1978), and a motorcycle crash in which my foolishness led to a wrecked dirt-bike (not my own), a burned chest, a burned arm, and a broken wrist.

Lord knows, from my mid-teens through young and senior adulthood, not only have I broken a wrist, but several fingers, one leg, several ribs (during my final parachute jump at the age of 50 in 2009), and I suffered a broken ankle from an irresponsible slip on the ice in the snow in 2014. That ankle still gives me occasional trouble to this day.

In May 2024, I survived several simultaneous strokes (unrelated to everything else). My healing and recovery is still ongoing, though the doctors are all amazed at my progress so far: Despite deficits which no one notices except me, I’m still walking, talking, driving, working, and hitting the gym at least three-four times a week.

WHY AM I STILL HERE?

God only knows why I’m still here beyond the aforementioned missions He still has planned for me, but I am grateful to Him and Him alone beyond my ability to adequately express that gratitude.

I am also grateful, as we all should be, for the everyday blessings that I (we, all of us) so often and cavalierly take for granted: Simple things like sunshine and warmth, cool breezes, leaves in the fall, the smell of rain, starry nights, coyotes yipping in the distance, cardinals at my window, snowflakes, campfires, the sound of children playing, physical security and the love of others. In fact, in May 1969, when I was barely 10-years-old I wrote about these simplest of God’s blessings and my gratitude toward Him for the same.

A LITTLE BOY’S JOY

My 4th-grade teacher Mrs. Gardner was impressed as was my mom, so-much-so Mom had my little “essay” framed. I’ve always thought it was too dull and pedestrian even for a child. Nevertheless, here it is:

“WHAT MAKES ME HAPPY by Tom Smith, May 13, 1969
“Christmas, Easter, flowers, trees, pretty days – all of this makes me happy. But I can’t forget Mom and Dad. Sisters and brothers make me happy. Food and shelter make me feel safe and happy. But God makes me feel happiest of all.”

This was accompanied by some of my boyhood artwork in the margins.

Fifty-six years later and here I am still considering God’s blessings and, I suppose, “What makes me happy.”

BROKEN YET BREATHING

I think we sometimes become so mired in our own proverbial trials-and-tribs, particularly as we get older, lose precious loved ones, experience regrets, and life becomes progressively tougher; we fail to consider our most-profound blessings experienced over the years. And make no mistake: We’re all blessed. Seriously. We’re breathing. There is a future in front of us as believers, both here on earth and in the presence of God forever. Don’t believe me? Read Jeremiah 29:11-14.

BEING MINDFUL OF BLESSINGS

And on this Holy Week, I am personally striving to be more mindful of my blessings – that mindfulness being a disciplined effort just like going to the gym or heading out for a walk.

For me, among my simplest albeit richest blessings are steady work (yes, I am still gainfully employed at age 66 and embracing that reality), bosses who recognize the value of my work, loyal friends who appreciate me and respect what few gifts I might possess, dear-to-me family members (particularly the little ones who seem to love me unconditionally), my mentally sharp and physically thriving 90-year-old mom who cooked pork chops for me today, and Almighty God who forgives me of my sins, loves me despite my flaws, delivers me from my enemies and from myriad threats to my life (both seen and unseen), and who guides my life through His inerrant Holy Word.

I know it may sound syrupy sentimental, but in all sincerity, THANKS AND PRAISE BE TO GOD for all of this. For without Him I am, we are, nothing. With Him, “We are more than conquerors” as Paul reminds us all.

 

– W. Thomas Smith Jr. is a formerly deployed U.S. Marine infantry leader and a New York Times bestselling editor. Visit him online at http://uswriter.com.