As you can see, this is a very crooked tree. And notice that it is in the swamp.
A leaning tree.
This tree is not so raggedy, but it is bent over. It is also in a low area next to the swamp.
A very crooked tree.
This tree is a mess! And it is totally in the swamp. A swamp tree.
A very tall and straight group of trees.
Now here is a very lovely group of tree. Very majestic looking. And they are no where near a swamp.
Tall trees.
Notice that these tall trees are nowhere near a swamp. They were planted above the swamp.
Crooked and tall trees
In this picture, notice that the trees on the left are on lower ground and they are crooked and bent over. But the rest of the tree are on higher ground and they are straight and strong.
I was wondering if we can learn something from these trees. The Psalmist in Psalm 1:3 tells us that the righteous man will be like a tree that is firmly planted by streams of water. But it doesn’t say that he is planted in the water, but by the water. Those who are planted in the water get too much water. Are there some Christians that get too much water? I think a Christian that spends all of his time reading the bible and going to church, but has no ministry, he may end up like a crooked tree. He is getting too much nourishment–more than his body can handle. Just a thought.
In this comic strip, Jeremy seems to be trying to get out of work. On the other hand, he may have a point.
I think we should be very careful about making plans and goals. I have gotten myself into a lot of trouble when I have made big goals and plans for myself. For me, it works better to first pray about a thing, and then pray some more. I would rather let Him lead me into something than to make big plans. As Proverbs 16:3 instructs us, we should first commit our way to Him and then He will establish the plans He desires of us.
During the day, every day we would be training for war. Even though I just got back from Vietnam and only had six months left of my enlistment, they kept us fit and ready for combat. Because you never know, they told us, when we would be called back again. After all, we were Marines, and a Marine is always ready, “always faithful.”
But after every day of training, my mind was focused on higher things—on what God had in store for me after my enlistment. I remember wanting so badly to saturate my mind with the word of God. I wrote down all the verses that I knew from memory, like John 3:16-17, 1 John 1:9, Matthew 7:7, and a few others. I had about ten verses on my list. I would start with those. It was my plan to review them daily and then to add to them.
I also had a growing desire to meet God in prayer. After it was dark, I went for walks. I found a place way back behind our barracks, through some trees and by a water bay. It was a secret place that only I knew about. There I sought the Lord. I didn’t ask Him much, I just wanted to be in His presence. Now that I think about it, I think He was seeking me more than I was seeking Him. And every day was the same. He kept drawing me to Himself and wanting me to come to Him.
One day, it must have been a Saturday or Sunday, I decided to go for a walk around the Marine base. My mind was on seeking the Lord for Christian fellowship. I thought it would be good to meet some Christians that I could have fellowship with. As I walked, I quoted Matthew 7:7: “Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”
From that verse I ask Him to show me a church where I would find Christians to fellowship with. I continued to walk, and then I heard what sounded like church bells. So, I said to myself, I’ve got to check this out. I walked toward where I thought the sound was coming from, and then I saw the church. I came up to the doors. They were open so I cautiously entered. The pews were all empty, but then I saw a few guys gathered around in front by the church altar. I boldly walked toward them. An older man, about in his 30’s, was reading to the guys from a little booklet. Soon I recognized that it was a gospel track. He was presenting the gospel to these guys, which I assumed were Marines.
After his presentation the leader approached me with a smile and a handshake. He told me that he knew I was a Christian by my smile. God had answered my prayers according to His word. I asked Him to directed me to Christian fellowship and He did. I sought for it and I found the church. I came to the door of the church and it was open and I walked in—I didn’t even have to knock.
I found out later that the man who was sharing the gospel with the Marines in the church was a representative of a group called the Navigators. I would soon be a part of that group.
Here is my daughter Justina, on the left, with a friend. They are hospital nurses, in full protective gear, caring for covid-19 patients.
I had just called and talked to my daughter Justina (pictured on the left), and she described for me her work with covid-19 patients and what she wears to protect herself. She sent me this picture. I just finished writing an article, After Vietnam, about my Vietnam experience and how it seemed that God was watching over me and keeping me safe…maybe for some greater purpose. Now I’m thinking, what if I had died in that war? I would have never been married and given my kids. And my daughter would not be here now to be the great front-line warrior that she is—saving many lives. And she is also a Christian warrior who is not ashamed to share her faith. She is a mother of two great kids.
Marine Corps barracks in Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
Looking back at my Vietnam experience, there is one thing that I keep thinking about: the fact that God was watching over me and keeping me from harm. As I previously wrote, I put in for a transfer from my first infantry unit to go to a village unit, because I thought I would have a better chance of being involved in battle. Well, as it turned out, I was in no battles at all in the village unit. And I also found out from a friend that the unit I had transferred out of, at hill 52, had been almost overrun by the Vietcong, and many of the Marines there were killed. So, as it turned out, all the action I took to put myself in harm’s way, God seemed to turn it around to put me in a safe place. That has made me wonder what God has in store for me. What purpose does He have for me?
After Vietnam I was to be sent home for just a week; and then, after that, I had 6 more months to serve on the Marine base in Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. But my first stop was Okinawa. I had a large duffel bag full of clothes and uniforms locked up safe in a storage ben there—so I thought. As it turned out, after looking for a while, the supply clerk told me that there was no duffle bag there with my name on it. Of all the luck. I had a brand-new set of dress blues in that bag that I never got a chance to ware. I wouldn’t have felt so bad about it if the clerk would have been just a little sympathetic toward me. He didn’t seem to care, nor did he seem the least bit interested in trying to recover my stuff. Well, so much for that. I put it out of my mind. Next stop, Minneapolis.
When I arrived at the airport in Minneapolis, I didn’t bother to call home. I just took a taxi home. It was about noon and my mom came to the door. She was quite surprised and glad to see me. For some reason I don’t remember too much during my week off at home. Things were a little different with my mom. She had recently divorced my dad, and so, I hate to say it, but everyone was feeling relieved and more at peace. I suppose the only thought my mom had about the divorce was that she probably wished she’d divorced him sooner. I think we all had the same feeling.
I don’t remember clearly how things were with me and Joy, but I think during this week was when I saw her one last time. I did love her, but I knew the relationship was wrong or would not work. Yet I kept praying for her salvation.
My week off at home went by fast and I was back with Marines again, in a new Marine unit in Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. I had only 6 more months to serve, and I was a little surprised by what they had me do: more combat training. Why? Why was I put in a training unit when I just got back from Vietnam? Well, I can’t remember if I ever asked any of my commanders that question; but I reasoned…what else would Marines do? A Marine trains for war and goes to war. That’s his purpose. Possibly they may have expected that I would re-enlist. In fact, at the end of my two-year enlistment they offered me a promotion if I would re-enlist. I said no. I had been to Vietnam so what else was there for me to do?
The overall purpose of our rewards, as in all things, will be to the praise of His glory (Eph. 1:12). Hence, whatever reward we receive: whatever praise, whatever service, or whatever responsibility, it will not only be filled with His glory, but it will reflect that glory back to Him. So, we will find ourselves in a never-ending cycle of glory. He gives us glory in our rewards. And then, as we use our rewards of service to service Him, His glory will be reflected back to Him.
Now, though all will receive His glory, and all will gladly give it back to Him (Rev. 4:10); not all will have the same capacity to radiate His glory. That may seem unfair, but we now in our works have the opportunity to determine our own destiny. Yes, He gives us now, through our obedience, the chance to make things right for…
This is probably the Navy hospital ship I was on, the USS Sanctuary.
During my entire Vietnam experience, I was never shot or wounded and I never got a purple heart. But I did have dysentery the entire time, probably from drinking unclean water (everyone else had dysentery too); and I somehow got a bad infection my left arm so that my entire arm swelled up, down to my fingertips. Our platoon corpsman tried to squeeze the puss and infection out, but that didn’t work; it just got worse. And I began to feel weak and nauseous and had a fever. So, they sent me to a Navy hospital ship by helicopter.
Well, those Navy boys worked a miracle on me. They gave me a couple of pills and my arm was back to normal in just two days. And because of the stool sample that I gave them, they also found that I had hook warms. And that was probably the reason why I was feeling weak and a little nauseous. So, they gave me some terrible tasting white liquid to drink. I think I drank two full glasses each day for a couple of days—and that seemed to kill the warms. More praise for the Navy doctors!
Being on the ship was a little relaxing and a break from the war. But most of the time, even though I was healing and feeling better, I didn’t feel very good, and was a little sea sick. I remember standing on the ship deck, leaning over the railing, watching as helicopter after helicopter came to deliver the wounded to be bandaged up. Some of them were badly wounded and had lost limbs. I was under the impression that the war was almost over! I guess not. Not yet. The wounded just kept coming in: a constant flow every day during the day time and also during the night. I felt lucky to be alive and in fairly good health. What I had was nothing compared to what I saw.
In just a few days’ time they sent me back to my unit. Some guys seemed glad to see me and that I was all healed up. Others jokingly asked if they gave me a purple heart. I said no. Well, guess what? In a couple weeks I felt sick again, and they sent me back to the hospital. I had the hook warms again! I remember asking the doctors how you get hook warms, and they said that they usually come into your body through the pores in your feet. Then one of them said to me, “But you don’t walk around barefooted do you?”
Well, I guess I wasn’t your typical Marine that left his boots on all the time. I wore them at night when I was on patrols, but during the day I usually lounged around without them. In my defense, if they would have told me on my first hospital visit how you get hook warms, I would have been more careful, like maybe waring flip flops. Also, by going barefoot, there was no chance of me having smelly feet and getting gangrene—as some Marines did.
This is the look of most of the older Vietnamese people. They love their betel nut.
I began to think about all the Vietnamese people who walked around all the time barefooted. Either they found a cure for hook warms or they had gotten immune to it. Now I’m thinking that maybe all the hot sauce they usually ingested took care of them. And the older people were always chewing on betel nut, which is made up of area nuts, and lime and tobacco, wrapped in a betel leaf. This chew is a long-time tradition of the people, but is also a nasty habit. Yes, it is habit forming, it has been known to give them oral cancer, and it stains the teeth and mouth red. Most of the people really like chewing it, and it has some benefits: it numbs the mouth and teeth, and it will save you from the pain of a tooth ache. Now I’m thinking that maybe it helps to kill hook warms too. Maybe.
After my two hospital stays, I only had a month or so to be in Vietnam. I was counting the days. I would leave on August 21, 1971. But wouldn’t you know it, my ride home didn’t come. I was getting nervous. When I complained, they assured me that I was going home soon. They were right. On August 22nd I left. What was next?
There is something interesting or perhaps strange about these trees in the low lands and swamps. I’m not sure what kind of tree they are. I will just call they swamp trees. They almost look deformed and crooked or twisted.
During the day in the village, life was pretty good. But at night things were different: we went on night patrol almost every night; and when we didn’t have night patrols, we usually just camped out in a perimeter outside of the village. When I say camped out, I don’t mean we pitched a tent. We always just sat on the ground somewhere out of sight. Sometimes we would hide in the middle of a rice patty in a foot of water and stayed there all night under the stars with the mosquitoes. And we were not to swat the mosquitoes or use repellent. Our purpose at night was to guard the village and also to intercept any enemy intruders. We were to hide ourselves and stay out of sight. We didn’t want the enemy to see us, hear us, or smell us. If they came through, we wanted to surprise them. We would capture them if possible.
Actually, we didn’t have many encounters; I suspect they knew we were vigilantly on guard and so they stayed away. But one night we did encounter someone. While we were quietly sitting in the dark, soaked in a rice patty, he walked right into us. He was so surprised that, as soon as he saw us, he just took off running. We put up a flare and saw him for just a second, and he was gone. We suspected that he was either a Vietcong that was coming to the village to steal some food, or perhaps he was a VC sympathizer (someone in the village that would bring food out to the Vietcong because they felt sorry for them). And I can understand that, because the Vietcong were just doing what they were ordered to do and sometimes they were barely surviving out in the jungle without much at all.
Our unit, as well as our patrolling, was different than a regular Marine unit. A regular unit, like where I was previously, on hill 52, had bunkers and barricades and was generally more visible; and most of our patrolling was during the day. But in the village unit, we tried to be invisible. We had no bunkers or barricades and we tried to blend in with the Vietnamese people. All our patrolling was at night under cover of darkness. Our mission wasn’t to seek and destroy; it was to guard the village and to secretly catch enemy invaders by ambush.
And sometimes it was so dark and quiet that when we heard anything, we were a little uneasy. I will never forget the time when I was scared out of my boots. We were set up in the village in between a couple hutches, and I heard something. So, I drew my 45, and creeped around the hutch looking for whoever it was. I didn’t see him the whole night, yet I heard someone. It was like chasing a ghost. That morning I discovered that there was an ARVN (a Vietnamese military person) at home on leave moving around in the hutch we were guarding—and he had a weapon with him. I don’t know if he knew that we were there, but if he would have gone outside carrying his weapon, I might have shot him. That was a crazy war, and many times the wrong people were shot.
Preachers tend to avoid this topic—as well as teaching on bible prophecy. We must expound the bible systematically, missing nothing. We need not only preach on what interests or pleases us, but on what is written down for us in His holy Word. The main text we will consider is in Matthew 5:31-32.
“And it was said, ‘Whoever sends his wife away, let him give her a certificate of divorce’; 32 but I say to you that everyone who divorces his wife, except for the cause of unchastity, makes her commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.
Jesus, in this text is comparing the false interpretation of the law of the Pharisees and Scribes with His own teaching. He was not correcting the law of Moses, but the teaching of the Scribes and Pharisees. He was honoring the law of Moses by teaching its whole truth.
Stephen Nielsen 