A Brain Surgeon Looks at Life

Faithful Friend

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Sun, 26 Dec 2010 10:36:00 +0000

When Jesus saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.”
(Luke 5:20, NIV)

Five words from Jesus: “Friend, your sins are forgiven.” With that proclamation, Jesus emphatically declares His identity to the Pharisees. They object to His claim, accusing Him of blasphemy and correctly stating that only God has the authority to forgive sin. Then Jesus backed up his claim of being God’s son by publically healing the man of his paralysis; He showed that He has power over the body as well as the spirit.

As amazing and important as this passage is to Jesus’ identity as divine, it is the first half of the verse that stops me in my tracks. When Jesus saw their faith. Luke the physician, who obviously would have been interested in Jesus’ ability to heal a paralyzed man, includes a detail that is easy to read past. Jesus forgave and subsequently healed the man because the man’s friends had great faith. These unidentified people would not give up their quest to help their friend when they encountered a large crowd blocking the door to the room where Jesus was. They found another way in- right through the roof.

Jesus saw their faith and determination to help their friend, and He knew that their hearts were right- they believed that Jesus was their only hope.

In this passage we see that sometimes God takes action on a person’s behalf due to another person’s faith. Let that sink in for a moment. How many times have you given up on praying for a lost friend, a sick loved one, or a broken relationship because it seemed hopeless? The door to Jesus seemed blocked? Here we see that Jesus will reward faith.

I am humbled to think that as a physician my greatest gift to my patients is my willingness to pray for them. God’s ability to heal and restore in response to faith exceeds anything I can do with my hands. I wonder how many people have been cured of their disease, healed of their brokenness, or brought back into relationship with their Creator due to persistence in prayer and faith of others on their behalf.

On the other hand, it chills me to think that I might have been the only one in a given patient’s life who was willing to carry them to Jesus. In this story, the man’s friends did for him what he could not do for himself- and it made all the difference.

(From the January 2011, Christian Beacon (www.christianbeacon.com), published as "More to the Story, Part III")

Be Who You Are

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 11:44:00 +0000

(Published in the January 2008 Christian Beacon as part 6 of A Brain Surgeon Looks at Life)

So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

(Romans 12:1-2, The Message)

“Hello, Governor,” he greeted me as I walked into his hospital room. Taken aback, I introduced myself as a medical student that would be taking care of him in the hospital. His name was Carl. “How was the inauguration? I bet it was cold out there,” he went on. I tried to explain to him that I was not, in fact, the Governor.

A nurse walked into his room, carrying a tray with his medications and some water. Carl introduced us. “Governor, this is my assistant. She keeps trying to get me to take these pills, but I think she’s forgetting who she works for. Do you remember the last time you met her?”

The nurse looked at me, shook her head, and deposited the tray on Carl’s bedside table before leaving the room with a chuckle.

As our conversation unfolded, I realized that Carl was incorporating everything we talked about into his personal life history. I asked him a question about his heart, and he reminded me of the time I talked with his wife about her heart surgery. When I told him that I like the robe he was wearing, he reminded me that I gave it to him for Christmas a few years ago. The problem was that none of those things were true.

Over the next few days, I had the amusing and heartbreaking job of taking care of Carl. He had a severe anemia, and heart failure, and was suffering from alcohol withdrawal. But the medical aspects of his care were not the things that make me remember him enough to tell you about him 15 years later. The fascinating part of Carl’s story is his neurological disorder: Korsakoff’s syndrome.

Carl had become so addicted to alcohol that he began to drink instead of eating meals. Over time, most of his daily caloric intake came from alcohol. When a person does this, he or she can slowly become deficient in some nutrients, and rarely the deficiency can become so severe that they actually develop diseases related to the lack of these vitamins or minerals. Commonly, alcoholics suffer from anemia related to the lack of folic acid and sometimes vitamin B12 in their diets. The rare Korsakoff’s syndrome comes from a severe depletion of thiamine, also known as vitamin B1.

Thiamine is important to the structural integrity of the parts of the brain that allow the integration of old and new memories. The hippocampus, thalamus and hypothalamus become damaged and disconnected in a way that prevents the rehearsal of new memories from being transferred into long-term memories, and interferes with recall of old memories in an accurate way. Practically speaking, this creates memory gaps that the person fills in with whatever is around them at that time- essentially inventing memories. This is called confabulation, and Carl was the most textbook example of amnesic-confabulatory disorder, or Korsakoff’s syndrome, that I have ever seen.

My daily talks with Carl were funny and frustrating, entertaining and tragic. Every morning brought a new introduction. I was the Governor, his former neighbor, his son, his mechanic, his daughter’s fiancée. As we replaced his alcohol with food and vitamin supplements, corrected his anemia, and treated his heart disease, he became healthier. But his memory did not improve; the damage was done. I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed at the sadness of this bright, articulate man whose addiction had literally obliterated his brain.

Although Carl never remembered me, I learned a lot from him. Certainly, I never missed a question on a test about what thiamine does. But far more importantly, I learned a spiritual lesson from Carl that I think is relevant to all of us. And like always, the amazingly designed complexity and frailty of the nervous system gave me a window into understanding life.

Carl went through life allowing every single encounter to determine the next. He had no ability to shape his own future, because he was completely unable to know who he really was. And in that, he reminds me of a lot of people. How often do you have a conflict with your spouse, and then snap at your co-worker later that morning? You are not really mad at your colleague, but rather allowing your irritation, hurt, or anger at your wife or husband to affect the way you treat someone else.

You lose someone close to you to cancer or an accident, and you become bitter, losing your joy and allowing the loss to control your mood for years. A person goes through a major trauma and becomes a shell of their former self, drifting through the rest of their life unable to shake the fear and pain of that event.

We frequently become very pliable, bending and being shaped by the events and people in our lives in significant ways. When we lose our compass, it can lead to tragic consequences. The Lord tells us in Romans 12 not to conform to the world, but rather to be transformed by his word. I love the way this passage reads in The Message, and I have included it at the top of this article. Don’t be dragged down by the events around you; let God tell you who you are.

Carl was a helpless passenger in life at the time I met him. He had no ability to be the man he was made to be. Years of abusing alcohol had destroyed parts of his brain and wiped out his ability to understand reality. The intricate pathways of memory his Creator had lovingly crafted had been annihilated by his years of bad choices. He was beyond help.

But we have a choice. We have to live in this world, but we do not have to let it determine our mood, our thoughts, or our actions. We should be changed from the inside out by our maker, not from the outside in by other people or circumstances.

Five Words

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Tue, 23 Nov 2010 11:10:00 +0000

When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots.
(Matthew 27:35, NIV)

Some scriptures jump out and grab you. Short sentences that contain much more than the first reading reveals. One of the amazing things about reading scripture is that every word is alive (Hebrews 4:12). There is no fluff, no wasted space; we have every word the God intended for us to have, and every word counts.

Think for a moment about the scripture printed above. Matthew matter-of-factly states that the soldiers crucified Jesus, and then gambled for his clothes. Go to your bible and read the scene in context (Matthew 27). We are taken on a journey from Jesus’ arrest in chapter 26 to his burial at the end of chapter 27. In verse 35, Matthew uses five words to describe the most important event in human history.

When they had crucified him.

I have a problem with brevity. The editor of this paper will attest to my difficulty with fitting my articles each month into four hundred words. Had I written the account of Jesus’ crucifixion, I would have wanted to describe each aspect of that day in great detail. I would have worried that the readers would miss the importance of Jesus’ sacrifice if I failed to give enough background, enough description, and enough inclusion of events. You would have read a graphic account of what it sounded like for those nails to pierce his skin. I would have wanted you to feel a little sick in your stomach as you read about what those soldiers did with their whips and rods. I would have wanted you to feel like you were there.

Matthew, writing under the influence of the Holy Spirit, makes a much more important point. You didn’t have to be there, because Jesus was.

Five words tell the story of the redemption of mankind. When they had crucified him.

I want more. God says that’s enough. Five words cover the entire basis of hope for all of human history.

In this series we will look at several examples of biblical sentences that are much more than they seem at first blush. The Word of God is living and active, and when we read it, we need to pay attention. I challenge you to find another book that is filled with sentences that contain as much. Dickens or Hemingway might need hundreds of pages to tell their story. God only needed five words to tell His.

(Five Words, by W. Lee Warren. From the November 2010 Christian Beacon (www.christianbeacon.com), published as "More to the Story, Part I")

Thanksgiving

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Mon, 22 Nov 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances… (I Thessalonians 5:16-18, NIV)

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Not just the food (although I do love it), but everything about Thanksgiving makes me happy. Families reunite, relationships reconnect, and we take a moment to reflect on all that God has done. We give thanks- for our family, our health, our successes and our blessings.

But what about the next day?

I can go through my life and think of many days when my prevailing mental posture was not one of thanksgiving. During difficult times, do I meet my Lord with an attitude of rejoicing, prayer, and thanksgiving? Or do I bring him a laundry list of complaints or requests? Sometimes, I find that I will struggle to remember the last time I spoke with Him at all.

When reading scripture, we find that the Word is, indeed, sharper than a double-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12). In I Thessalonians 5, Paul gives us one of those sentences that says a lot more than it seems to at first glance. Read through that chapter in context, and you’ll see what I mean. But verses 16-18 should stop us in our tracks.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

No qualifications are given here, no options for our attitude, no exemption for certain circumstances. When does God will for us to rejoice? Always. How often does he expect us to be prayerful? Continually. During what circumstances are we to be thankful? All.

Now, before you start writing letters to the editor saying that it’s ok for Christians to have sorrow, anger, fears, or things they’d like for God to improve, understand that I agree. The bible plainly tells us to bring all our lives before God and gives many examples of people asking God for very specific things or for changes in their circumstances (see Job and Psalms, for example). These verses, however, speak to something more related to our hearts.

God says, effectively, “I have given you life, I have blessed you with unearned salvation from your sins, hope for eternal life, and constant access to me through prayer.” He expects that to matter to us. It should change our approach to everything.

Say those nine words to yourself and watch them change your life: Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances. If we start there, we can make every day Thanksgiving.

(Thanksgiving, by W. Lee Warren. From the December 2010 Christian Beacon (www.christianbeacon.com), published as "More to the Story, Part II")

When the Facts Shake Your Faith, Part 11, by W. Lee Warren, MD

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Thu, 05 Aug 2010 11:29:00 +0000

(Note: This article will be published in the September 2010 issue of the San Antonio Christian Beacon)
Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings.
(Psalm 63:7, NIV)

Pursued. Hounded. Hunted. David was in trouble, and not for the first time. Years before King Saul’s vendetta had David running for his life. Now the king, David was again being chased with his life on the line. But this time, the pursuer was David’s own son, Absalom.

Imagine the emotions David must have felt. Along with fear, he had to feel betrayal, anger, embarrassment, and confusion. If ever there were a moment to doubt your faith, this was it. How could God let this happen?

Have you ever had an enemy? Someone that just seemed to want to mess with your life at every turn? Someone who would not stop pursuing, testing, harassing and causing you pain? The attack of another person, whether physical, emotional, financial or spiritual, can be one of the most potent challenges to our faith.

In the midst of such a battle, it would make sense to ask why, to demand that God bring justice or deliverance. It would be reasonable to wonder if God could really care about us if He allows people to mistreat us so badly.

The problem is that life is always going to be full of enemies, because we have an Enemy that will never stop wanting us to hurt. Remember I Peter 5:8-9: Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.

If we let our faith dwindle every time an enemy appears, we will spend our lives on the run and have no effectiveness in the Kingdom, and no peace in our hearts.

A better answer is to look to David’s example. During the worst moments, when he was in danger of being assassinated by his son, David wrote Psalm 63. “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you… I will praise you as long as I live… They who seek my life will be destroyed… But the king will rejoice in God.”

Instead of doubting, David held on tight.

Don’t feel singled out when an enemy is hurting you. You’re in good company. And by the way, David was not the only Biblical example of someone being betrayed by his or her children. When it happened to Jesus, his answer was to say, “Father, forgive them.”

The Head of Doom

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Mon, 24 May 2010 10:51:00 +0000

Warren Innovation and Head of Doom:

Bringing Brain Cancer to its Knees

Welcome to the Head of Doom store at www.headofdoom.com! Head of Doom is a project brought to you by Warren Innovation, Inc. and the Warren Innovation Foundation.

Head of Doom exists for one purpose: to help fight brain cancer. The brainchild of Dr. W. Lee Warren and Warren Innovation President Lisa Warren, Head of Doom is the graphic representation of our efforts to stamp out this terrible disease.

The first thing most people ask us is: “What in the world does ‘Head of Doom’ mean?”

Good question.

In 2006, the www.auburnneurosurgery.com website was launched when Dr. Warren and Lisa founded the practice in Auburn, Alabama. The key graphic feature of the website was a cartoon head that we jokingly referred to as the “Head of Doom.” Now hold that thought- we’ll get back to Head of Doom in a minute.

Over time, as the practice grew we noticed an alarming number of cases of malignant brain cancer in the areas around Auburn, and began to discuss with epidemiologists from Auburn University the possibility of starting a research project to look at environmental factors that could be related to the disease.

A broad category like “brain cancer” contains a lot of different diseases. But in the Auburn area, we see an unusually high incidence of one type in particular.

Glioblastoma multiforme (GBM), also known as Grade IV Astrocytoma, is the most deadly form of brain cancer. Over the past 40 years, no significant advances have been made to offer hope for its victims. The average survival from the time of diagnosis, despite all the treatments available for people, is about 15 months.

During the course of his career as a neurosurgeon, Dr. Warren has seen too many people suffer and die from this disease, and we at Warren Innovation have decided to do something about it.

Here’s the problem: GBM is a relatively uncommon disease, with only about 5,000 new cases per year in the United States. Compare that with breast cancer, which strikes about 180,000 people per year, and you’ll start to understand why no real progress has been made. Common diseases get research dollars and lots of researchers working on them, and things get better. Uncommon problems have small and usually poorly funded research projects, and it is much more difficult to make anything happen.

So we at Warren Innovation have One Big Idea: raise enough money to find the smartest research team with the most promising project, and fund that idea to its completion.

Let me outline the plan for you:

Warren Innovation will donate a portion of its corporate profits to the Warren Innovation Foundation. Other projects, like the Head of Doom Store, the Warren’s “Climbing Cures” project, Sporting events (like the upcoming inaugural Head of Doom Fun Run), etc. will raise additional funds, and we will seek donations to the WI Foundation from individuals and corporations as well.

This money will be used to establish a grant to fund scientific research aimed at curing GBM. Dr. Warren is assembling a team of world-renowned physicians and scientists to form a review panel, which will be tasked with choosing one research team with one project.

Once the team and their project has been chosen, the review panel will establish benchmarks and guidelines for periodic review of their progress, to ensure that the project stays on the right track. These researchers will not have to worry about doing anything other than trying to rid the world of GBM. Unlike most scientists, these folks will have only one mission, and will not have to worry about writing grants, re-applying for funding, or finding other jobs to feed their families. They will be funded completely as long as their ideas are working out. Taking the financial worries out of their work will allow them to focus on finding the answers.

Now back to Head of Doom. The graphic is cool, and the name “Head of Doom” has a double meaning.

Imagine the thoughts that would go through your mind if you heard your doctor say that you had a brain tumor. Certainly, brain cancer has an ominous sound to it, and gives people a sense of doom. Head of Doom says let’s turn that around. Let’s organize and fight this, and let our work spell doom for brain tumors.

The Head of Doom store will feature artwork from Los Angeles-based artist Darren LeGallo (www.darrenlegallo.com), doing original pieces inspired by the Head of Doom concept. Lisa Warren is working with other artists to develop additional pieces. This work will be available for purchase, and available on apparel and other items. Currently these items will be sold through online marketplaces like Zazzle, but will soon be available locally and on the Internet through Warren Innovation and the Head of Doom Store at www.headofdoom.com.

Head of Doom and Warren Innovation are also sponsoring runs, the Auburn University COSAM golf tournament, and other local events to drive interest, raise awareness, and raise money for the fight to doom brain tumors.

Warren Innovation is committed to helping people find the peace of mind that brain tumors steal. Head of Doom is proud to help.

Chapter One of "Called Out: A Brain Surgeon Goes to War." The pictures are omitted here; you'll have to wait for the book to see the several hundred photos from Iraq I have included. Enjoy.

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Sun, 02 May 2010 14:23:00 +0000

1. Boots on the Ground

Praise be to the LORD my Rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle.

Psalm 144:1 (New International Version)

The months prior to my deployment were packed with a whirlwind of activities related to getting ready to go into to a combat theater and practice medicine for 120 days. It was amazing to me to learn that no one seemed to know what I should expect as a neurosurgeon there. The Air Force had always considered neurosurgery to be what they called a “fourth echelon” specialty, meaning that they intended to keep the neurosurgeons stateside and bring patients to us since there were so few of us (12 in 2004 for the entire Air Force). The thought had been that anyone with a severe head injury in the field was probably going to die anyway, and they did not want to put us in harm’s way unnecessarily.

That thought began to evolve when the leaders of military trauma management started thinking of the combat theater like a giant trauma system for a city- coordinating all the medics and aid stations, clinics, and smaller hospitals with central control. This created a more streamlined process for getting injured people off of the battlefield and into the proper trauma hospital quickly. This new system proved so effective that soldiers were reaching the more capable hospitals within minutes or a very few hours and were thus more potentially salvageable. One of the leaders who worked tirelessly to create the trauma system was my friend Colonel Donald Jenkins. Don is a true American hero. He’s been deployed multiple times and literally saved thousands of lives not only with his hands as a surgeon, but with his efforts to change the status quo of how soldiers are transported after being wounded. Don is retired now and in private practice. When you hear stories of someone being saved from an injury in the Iraq war, it was Don’s trauma system that got them to the doctors who saved them.

The result of the improvement in transport time from injury to hospital was a lot of people getting to hospitals alive with certain types of wounds and there were no specialists available to treat them. Neurosurgery was suddenly viewed as a necessary specialty in that environment, and the Army deployed brain surgeons to Kuwait and subsequently to the Ibn Sina Hospital attached to the 31st Combat Support Hospital (CSH) in Baghdad in 2003. Proof of concept was achieved quickly, with the Army neurosurgeons displaying amazing results at saving lives and preserving neurological function.

For the first part of the Iraq War, the United States Army carried almost the entire load for medical care, and the amount of work necessary was very difficult for one service branch to handle alone indefinitely. Joint Military Commanders made the decision to have the Air Force take over the hospital at Balad Air Base, and the transfer of command from the Army to the Air Force happened on September 20, 2004. It was clear that there was a need for more than the two Army neurosurgeons in Baghdad, and since the newly-formed 332^nd Air Force Theater hospital was to become the major trauma hub for all of Iraq due to the fact that the casualties already came through Balad Air Base on their way to be evacuated to Germany, the decision was made to deploy Air Force neurosurgeons to the theater. At that time, the Australian Military was also deploying doctors and nurses to help out in the war effort, and one of the first two neurosurgeons deployed to the 332^nd was an Aussie. The other was an American named Pete Lennarson, who found out that he had to go on very short notice. He was responsible for establishing the service at Balad, and did a fantastic job.

The Australian surgeon had a shorter commitment than Pete, and I was chosen as his replacement. I was informed on August 20, 2004 that I would be deploying to Iraq sometime around Christmas. Contact information for Pete was given to me, as well as to the neurosurgeons in Baghdad. I emailed them all, trying to figure out what was I was getting into, what I needed, and if there was anything from a medical perspective that was needed to make things better. Pete replied briefly, basically telling me that it was extremely busy and that he got mortared a lot. I was basically going into the unknown, and left trying to prepare as best I could.

We were given equipment lists, uniform requirements, issued body armor and helmets, and scheduled for immunizations and weapons training. There were courses on triage, mass casualty situations, and cultural lessons on how to properly interact with Muslims. I got terribly sick from the Yellow Fever vaccine, and mildly ill from the Anthrax and Smallpox shots. My right arm swelled up to about twice its normal size after the Smallpox vaccination, and the bruise under it lasted until about a month into my deployment.

My shopping trips began, trying to check off every box on the list of “necessary” supplies. We were told that we needed to take soap, shampoo, toothpaste, and other toiletries in quantities sufficient for four months. We did not yet know that the Post Exchange (PX) on base would have everything we would need. Further, we were issued two huge green duffel bags full of chemical warfare gear that someone in the Pentagon was sure we would need, including gas masks and syringes full of antidote to various weapons of mass destruction.

All totaled, I deployed to Iraq with about 300 pounds of gear, more than 50% of it issued to me. None of the issued gear other than the uniforms ever made it out of the duffel bags while I was there, and later groups would not be forced to bring in all that equipment. At some point someone realized that you could have people leave the gear in Iraq for the next person to use. My group brought the gear in, stored it for four months, and brought it home to check it back in. I wonder how much jet fuel the United States used just in flying all that material into and out of Iraq unnecessarily? To add insult to injury, the week after I got to Iraq they declared the combat theater to no longer be a malaria zone and stopped making people take those horrible medicines- just after I finished taking them.

In the midst of all this preparation, my personal life was incredibly stressful and full of enormous challenges. As I mentioned before, my marriage had fallen apart and was in its terminal stages. My brother had become gravely ill and suffered a major stroke. I was in the hospital waiting room with my sisters and parents during his heart surgery when I got the phone call from my Commander that I was to be deployed. On top of all that, I had to sit for my oral neurosurgery board examination in November.

Neurosurgery is the specialty of medicine that involves the surgical treatment of brain, spine, spinal cord and peripheral nerve disorders. I had received my Doctor of Medicine degree from the University of Oklahoma College of Medicine in 1995, and spent the next six years working 100-hour weeks as a resident in neurosurgery at Allegheny General Hospital in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania before graduating in 2001. In many medical specialties, one becomes “board certified” by passing a written test or simply by graduating from an accredited residency program. There are even a few “boards” that you can apply to and become certified by over the internet! But neurosurgery is very different.

A candidate for certification by the American Board of Neurological Surgery has to pass a written examination before he or she is allowed to graduate from their training program. This test is 8 hours long and covers every scientific discipline related to the human nervous system, as well as critical care medicine and pharmacology, neurology and pathology. This obstacle alone trips up several would-be neurosurgeons every year. Once passed, however, you still have to complete your residency, one year as Chief Resident, and then practice neurosurgery for four years before you are allowed to sit for the oral examination.

This was always a sore point in the military. Since most specialties allow their practitioners to be certified when the finish their residencies or soon thereafter, most military doctors are board certified. However, most doctors in the military are only on active duty for three or four years, depending on how long they were sponsored during their training. As an incentive to get people to receive as much training as possible, the military pays a significant annual bonus to those doctors who become board certified. And since the thought process in the military is that everyone is equal, there is not a lot of difference in the pay between primary care doctors and highly specialized surgeons. So the board certification bonus is a big part of your annual salary and creates an environment in which everyone takes the steps necessary to achieve that status.

Neurosurgeons, however, are not even eligible to take their examination for four years. Thus, in the military, neurosurgeons are the only doctors that do not get to say “Board Certified” on their titles, and are among the lowest paid physicians for the early part of their careers. This is particularly irritating since neurosurgery has the longest training program of all specialties and is generally among the highest paid specialties in private practice. After finishing your training, you feel like you’ve really accomplished something, and then you check into the military hospital and some Colonel won’t let you operate on him because he only wants to be seen by someone who is board certified.

That being said, in November of 2004 I was finally about to sit for my oral examination, and I was very nervous. Imagine having 8 experts in your field sit and ask you questions for 8 hours about anything they want. I was in a room with people who had written most of the textbooks I studied from, the men who defined the body of knowledge for modern brain surgery, and they were grilling me! An x-ray or CT scan would be displayed, and they would say, “We have a 12 year-old girl with headaches. What would you do?” I had to ask the right questions in order to get them to disclose enough information to me to be able to make the right decisions on behalf of the imaginary patient. Long story short, I passed. But it was exceedingly difficult and I have never prepared for anything like I did for that exam.

After getting past that hurdle, I thought that the only thing left was to get to December and the long-awaited deployment. But on December 3, 2004, my Grandfather died. Robert Emmett Warren, or “DaddyPa” as we called him, was 99 years old. He was one of those foundational characters in your life; those people who you think are always going to be there. And even though he had been sick for a long time, I saw him as the strong Oklahoma cattleman walking through a field holding my little hand when I was a boy. He would teach me about calves and hay and bulls and business, but in a subtle way he was teaching me about life. I never really thought that DaddyPa would die. I guess I believed that the Lord would return before we lost DaddyPa- I just never realized how much of my world depended on the idea that he was there. It was very hard for me to say goodbye to him.

In the days leading up to my departure, more information was released as to where I was going. I learned that Balad Air Base was the most attacked base in Iraq at the time. Mortar and rocket attacks were so common there that the base had been given a nickname: “Mortaritavile.” Once I had completed packing and obtaining all my gear and my immunizations, little was left to do other than sit and think about what was coming, and my thoughts frequently turned to the various scenarios that could result in me not coming home from the war. I sat down and wrote letters to my children, trying to give them all the instruction I could to help them grow up and know how much I loved them and to try to tell them everything they might need to know. Those letters were left in the hands of friends who were to mail them to the children in case I did not make it back. Writing such a letter has a way of making you think of all the things you wish you’d said to your kids over the years, all the opportunities you missed. If you think it is the last time a person will ever hear your thoughts, you really struggle to make it count. When I got home and re-read them, I thought of so many more things I would have told them. Somehow knowing how far away I had really been made me realize that no letter could have been adequate. I was very grateful that they did not have to be delivered.

While I received well wishes, e-mails, letters and calls from a lot of friends and family members, a few messages stood out as being especially memorable. One was a precious letter from my Uncle Keefer, who was dying from lung cancer. I have many boyhood memories of Uncle Keefer, the strong, hard-working man. His was a generation in which men did not often show emotion, or speak about their feelings. To know that he took the time to write and tell me he loved me and was proud of me, especially when his every breath was labored, meant the world to me. Two other messages, however, had a very different impact on me.

The last time I went to my office at Wilford Hall Medical Center before I deployed, the voice mail light on my desk phone was blinking. I sat down and began to clear my messages, deleting most of them since they were work-related or unimportant. The last two got my attention. My former professor, Dr. Takanori Fukushima, is a world-renown neurosurgeon who now teaches at Duke University. Dr. Fukushima is an iconoclast in Neurosurgery, and remains the greatest technical surgeon I have ever seen. He has a habit of referring to himself in the third person, and his command of English is less complete than his grasp of surgical techniques. I greatly appreciated him taking the time to call, and was able to overlook the content of his message since the effort meant a lot to me. He said, “Ah, Lee, this Fukushima. Fukushima hear you go Iraq. Fukushima hope you not die.” I hoped not, also.

The last message was from another former professor, Dr. Adnan Abla. Dr. Abla had a lot to do with my being selected for the residency slot in Pittsburgh, and he really took me under his wing early in my training. He is from Lebanon, and his sense of humor gave me mixed comfort in his goodbye thoughts: “Lee, it is Adnan. I heard you are going to Balad. Don’t worry about a thing. I have called my cousins, and they gonna cut off your privates as soon as you arrive.” I always loved Dr. Abla, but I really hoped not to meet his relatives in Iraq!

About two weeks prior to deployment, I completed the last two items on my checklist- Humvee driving school and handgun qualification. These two were clearly the most fun parts of the process, although they also brought some terror. Someone decided that everyone deployed to the combat theater needed to have a “driver’s license” to operate the High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle, or HMMWV. Everyone calls them “Humvees,” and they are the iconic vehicles you see in almost every photograph of the war in Iraq. The Humvee is the “jeep” of the 21^st century, and on one very pleasant day in December of 2004, I attended the training course at Camp Bullis, Texas.

Camp Bullis is in the Hill Country of Texas near San Antonio, and contains some very rugged terrain. We were driven down into a valley of brush-covered, rocky ground. Erosion had formed deep grooves in the valley, and to my eye it looked impassible. The instructor would tell me to drive slowly and climb up a hill, and I was constantly amazed at what the vehicle could do. There were times when one wheel was completely in the air, or we were pitched 30 or 40 degrees to one side. Still, the Humvee kept on going, and by the end of the afternoon I was convinced that I could drive it anywhere. I felt prepared for any situation that would require me to climb a mountain in my Humvee. And armed with my government driver’s license, I deployed to the perfectly flat desert environment of Balad, Iraq, and never drove a Humvee again.

On the other hand, the day I had to qualify to shoot the 9mm handgun was quite another story. I had qualified once before, in 2001 at Commissioned Officer Training School. COT, as they call it, is a 6-week long course held at Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama. The purpose of the school is to refresh people who have been Commissioned officers for a while but have not been on active duty due to long training programs like Medical or Nursing school. I had gone to the “doctor” version of Officer Training School in 1991 at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas, but then done medical school and residency training in civilian programs. By the time I graduated residency and was ready to go on active duty, it had been 10 years since I had worn a uniform to work. COT was designed to refresh people like me and get us ready to function in a military environment, and it was a great school.

In December of 2004, I had to qualify with the handgun again, and this proved quite different than the first time. At COT in 2001, it was peacetime and there was no thought in anyone’s mind (especially mine) that we would actually ever have to carry a weapon or think about shooting it at someone. Especially as a physician, I could not even imagine back then that I might really need this training. It was a fun day, and I enjoyed it a lot. I qualified “expert” and promptly forgot about the whole thing. At the firing range 2 weeks before I was deploying to a real war with real bad guys, however, it felt very different.

Each time I aimed at a target, I thought to myself, “This could really happen.” I could see in my mind a scenario where some terrorist was infiltrating the hospital and I found myself face-to-face with him. In my mind, in that fictional moment, I would clear leather like a cowboy in an old Western movie, and blast the bad guy and save the base. Then in the next thought I would see the scene again, and I would be more like Barney Fife in the old Andy Griffith show- the deputy who was so inept with his pistol that he was only allowed to carry one bullet and he had to keep that bullet in his pocket. I still managed to shoot well and qualified, but I paid a lot more attention than I had before.

The thing that really got to me was the fact that I was being sent to a place where someone thought I might need to carry a weapon. My life up until that point had been focused on trying to heal, to save, to repair people injured by guns and knives and the invisible bullets of disease. Hospitals are safe places, and doctors are peacemakers, treating the victim and the perpetrator with equal application of compassion and skill. I did not like the idea of carrying a weapon, or being in a place where I might need to use one. I began to have dreams of the hospital being overrun with terrorists, and having to fight them off. I wondered if, when the time came, I could actually pull a trigger to intentionally take another person’s life. My son and I recently had this conversation as I was admiring a new handgun he purchased. He said, “If someone was trying to harm the people I love, I would have no problem shooting them.” While I had always shared that sentiment, I now actually know what bullet wounds look like, I know the smell of spilled blood and the look in the eyes of people as they grapple with the death that settles on them as they succumb to the bullet’s deadly purpose. Young people have a romantic notion of heroism, and the idea of firing the weapon seems so noble that they all think it within their power. Personally, I still don’t know.

Time would prove that my handgun would only leave its holster once in a situation where it would have been possibly necessary to use it. But we’ll get to that story later.

After four months of preparation, the call finally came- on Christmas day. Nate and I were ordered to arrive very early in the morning on 26 December 2004 for our flight to Al Udeid Air Base, and our orders stated that we were to be in Iraq and on-station by 29 December. We arrived at the airport, met the Weapons Sergeant who issued us Nate’s M-16 rifle and my 9mm Beretta. Then we got on a plane and left for the war. In civilian clothes, we looked just like any of the other passengers on the plane. The only difference was our destination and the fact that we had gas masks and bullets among our checked bags.

After stops in Germany at the famed Ramstein Air Base and Al Udeid in Qatar, we finally boarded the C-130 that would take us to Iraq. All creature comforts were gone. About 60 people were crammed into the hard metal bench seats that lined the sides of the cargo bay. Strapped into webbing that acted as seat belts, we were sitting on top of our Kevlar body armor in the event of gunfire from below. All our gear was loaded onto palettes and then pushed by forklift onto the airplane behind us- sealing us in by blocking the exit at the rear of the aircraft. We were really going. Once the door shut, the lights went out. We were told to put in ear plugs due to the high noise level, and that we would not hear anything further for about 3.5 hours. There were no bathrooms, there was no legroom, and there was no one on board that did not fully understand that this would be very different that any other flight we had ever taken.

At some point in the flight, the pilot began to make very erratic movements up and down and side-to-side with the aircraft. I had been told by C-130 pilots in San Antonio that they frequently took ground fire when flying through Iraq and that they made evasive maneuvers as they began to descend prior to landing. I was not really ready for this. Whether or not we took any ground fire I will never know, but I do know that the pilot gave us a ride I’ve never experienced on any roller coaster in my life. More than one person vomited, and the smell of whatever they had eaten filled the cabin, its stench magnified by being unable to see anything.

We finally landed, taxied for what seemed like a long time, and then suddenly stopped. The engines kept running as the rear door began to lower, and we could see the headlights of the forklift that was driving on to remove the palettes of gear. Someone climbed on board and instructed us to stand and form two lines. We followed him out of the plane and into Iraq. I looked down in the darkness and saw my boots on the ground of a foreign nation at a time of war. The surreal feeling I had at that moment has never left me. 120 days later, I would retrace those steps. But the man who left was quite different than the one who arrived.

Email Home, Day 3

Hello from Balad Air Base, everyone! It’s Sunday morning, cold and cloudy here in Mesopotamia.

Thursday was largely uneventful, other than the two mortar attacks. Most of the mortars don’t blow up; they’re 20 year-old French munitions (another reason not to buy stuff from France) that are duds. But, then our guys have to go out and find them and then they have these scheduled detonations every day. When you hear how much louder they are when they blow up it scares the pants off of you to think what that would have done if it had blown up whatever it landed near.

A round landed about 50 yards from my trailer the day before I got here. Nothing like that since, though.

Friday I got to operate for the first time. An Iraqi friendly was shot in the head by insurgents and I took the bone and bullets out of his brain. He’s actually doing pretty well, talking and moving all his arms and legs. He’s blind in one eye from a fragment.

No mortars Friday at all.

Saturday, we started the day with a group photo out on the helicopter pad. During the photo a machine gun battle broke out and lasted about 2 minutes right outside the fence we were standing by. That was scary. We had three mortar attacks and they also found a bomb outside the North gate yesterday.

There are lots of “Improvised Explosive Devices”, which we call IEDs. These are roadside bombs the terrorists blow up with remote controls when our guys drive by. We had three separate groups of injured soldiers from IEDs yesterday. One died, DOA. He had been shot in the head after the truck got blown up. The insurgents hide nearby and shoot our guys as they climb out of their burning vehicles. It’s terrible.

I live in a 10x10 foot trailer that’s 3 blocks from the bathroom and showers. If I were a LtCol, I would get to share a bathroom and shower, but I’m only a major. Colonels get their own bathrooms and a car.

To make a call I have to get an operator in Bahrain or Qatar to connect me to an operator in San Antonio and get them to connect me. It takes about 5 minutes to get through, so when I get your answering machines, it’s irritating! Just kidding.

I am going to make rounds, go to church and try to call the kids today.

I feel pretty safe; you can’t really worry about mortars. It’s like lightning. It can kill you but you can’t control it. The only difference is that it’s kind of weird to know that when I go up on the roof to look out over the Iraqi countryside, some of those sheepherders and farmers I see are actually plotting to kill me. That’s weird. Odds are if you go up on your roof and look around you won’t see anyone who actually wants you dead.

We’re making a difference here, though. The insurgents we treat see firsthand that Americans are not evil. We love them and take care of them as if they hadn’t destroyed a bunch of our teenage heroes. We give them the same food, the same accommodations as or own guys. We just guard them! I can see in some of their eyes that they know that we’re not what they thought we were.

It’s a joy to treat some of the Iraqi friendly folks, too. They are innocent victims of the bullets and bombs, and they are thankful we are here. One of them is teaching me medical words in Arabic so that I can talk to the patients. It’s great.

Keep praying.

Anything you send that I don’t need gets contributed to the pile of stuff we send to the FOBs (forward operating bases) like Fallujah. They have a real hard time with supplies, so they want everything we can send them. It may sound bad, but those guys are begging for cigarettes, so if any of you smoke send some and I’ll pass them forward.

I love you all, and will sign off for now.

Lee

W. Lee Warren, MD

Major, USAF MC

332 EMDG/AFTH

Balad Air Base, Iraq

APO AE 09315-9997

Christian Beacon Article: Things Are Not Always as They Seem

(Published August, 2006 as “Things I Learned in Iraq, Part 6”)

He arrived in a U.S. Army Blackhawk helicopter, barely clinging to his life. U.S. Marines shot him in the head while he was attempting to detonate a roadside bomb with the intention of killing a group of soldiers passing by. The Marines shot him, and then Army medics brought him to the Air Force Theater Hospital in Balad, Iraq where I was the neurosurgeon tasked to care for him.

I operated on him, removing the bullet fragments and a large piece of his skull in order to allow his brain to swell without causing further injury and hopefully saving his life and his potential to recover. This was the first time I had operated on one of the “bad guys.” A terrorist. I had only been in Iraq a few days, and was just getting used to the constant mortar attacks, waves of horribly injured people requiring emergency care, and operating in very austere conditions.

Having to take care of the enemy was at first very difficult. I looked at this man, and everything inside me wanted to hate him. All of us were troubled by the situation this man brought to us. We went to Iraq ready to care for injured soldiers and civilians, but I honestly don’t think that any of us were prepared for actually seeing a real-life Al Qaida terrorist and then having to care for him. I did my job.

During the surgery, many people talked about how they wished the Marines’ bullets had been more effective, more lethal. They joked about “finishing him off” in the surgery. I thought as I operated, trying to understand how this guy who looked about my Dad’s age could be out there trying to kill people. He just looked like a normal man. I guess I thought they (terrorists) would look especially sinister or have horns or something. He didn’t. Nothing about him, other than the hole in his head, set him apart from anyone else in particular.

Over the next few days as I took care of this man, I heard a lot of people make comments about him- he was scowled at and generally disliked by everyone passing by in the hospital. For his part, he remained largely unaware of the disdain that people had for him for two reasons: he was in a coma, and if he had been awake, he would have noticed that he received very high quality medical care and compassionate handling from everyone involved. People did their jobs and they did them well, in spite of the fact that this man had tried to kill a bunch of our soldiers.

I got to a point in my mind where I realized that the Lord would treat the man kindly, hoping to influence him and help him. And that’s what I did. It wasn’t easy, but I prayed for him, and decided that maybe by caring for him in a loving way, he (and the other detainees we had by then) would see that Americans and Christians aren’t the evil people that Saddam and Osama have taught them that we are. I thought that maybe by influencing these few patients we (the doctors and nurses) could make a difference in a lot of lives later. I don’t know if that is true or not, but I do know that we could have deepened their hatred of us and simultaneously made ourselves bitter and miserable by hating them.

Then something remarkable happened, and it changed my life.

A group of Marines came in with another prisoner. These were some of the soldiers involved in the brief firefight I mentioned above that resulted in the shooting of the terrorist. The Marines, however, came with more information. It turned out that the terrorist they had in their custody was actually the guy who was trying to set up the bomb. They said that during the battle, my patient had been shot, and was actually an innocent bystander in the matter. In the aftermath of the shooting, the Army Medics that picked the man up to bring him to me simply got the wrong story.

Imagine how we all felt. For nearly a week we had harbored hateful thoughts (and, for some people, evil wishes) towards this man because we thought he was a bad guy. Every piece of information we had said that he was guilty. We “knew” that he was a terrorist.

I noticed that people no longer sneered at him as they passed. And as he awoke from his coma and started to recover, people openly pulled for him, prayed for him, and touched him gently as they walked by. Even though everyone did a great job taking care of him before, there was a difference now. He was a good guy now.

Jesus says in Matthew chapter 7 that if we judge people he will judge us by the same standards. We are not to be in the judging business. We are to love people and try to help them. I learned in a very tangible way that what you are told about someone isn’t always true. I was wrong to judge him, and I am very thankful that I took good care of him in spite of thinking that he was the enemy.

More examples of mistaken identity happened while I was in Iraq, and I got to the point where I resolved to treat everyone exactly the same and let God and the security police figure out what to do with them later. That’s something you never hear about on CNN, isn’t it? That we take care of the bad guys right alongside the good guys?

One man was caught (and shot) setting off a bomb and brought in by the soldier who shot him. When we got an interpreter to talk to the man, we learned that a group of terrorists had kicked in the door of his home, and held his wife and daughter hostage with a promise to kill them if the man refused to detonate their bomb for them.

I told you that story to tell you this: even if you think you know what someone is doing or has done, you don’t necessarily have all the information about their motives. You can’t judge them if you don’t know the whole story.

Don’t we see this every day in life? We hear a rumor about someone and believe it, change the way we treat that person and even sometimes end relationships with him or her, only later to find out that it was just a rumor? Judgment, gossip and slander only hurt people; they never help people. And most of the time, what you think you know is actually either completely wrong or only a small part of the truth. I think that’s why God equates gossip with murder and other “big sins” in Romans, and why James says in chapter 4:

“Brothers, do not slander one another. Anyone who speaks against his brother or judges him speaks against the law and judges it.”

Think about that for a minute. If you slander your brother or sister, gossip against them, you’re speaking against God’s word. Choose your words carefully, friends. You may not “know” as much as you think you know.

In my case, I had “good” information that told me I was caring for a “bad” person. Every reasonable person there would have and did make the same judgment: this guy was a scumbag terrorist. And we were all wrong.

Don’t judge people. It’s a good way to hurt someone, and it hurts the Lord. Besides, you’ll feel better if you just love everyone and try to help. It got me through some times when I had to care for some confessed murderers and terrorists. And I’ve been on the receiving end of people judging me when they didn’t know the whole story (any Christian who has gone through a divorce can echo this comment). I can promise you that your witness for Christ will be clearer and more powerful if you love people and use your words to encourage them, not to spread the latest gossip.

For the record, my patient ended up doing pretty well. He can walk and talk, and he’s with his family. I am thankful for him; he taught me that things aren’t always as they seem to be.

I learned that in Iraq.

Introduction to my upcoming book, available soon. Stay tuned for details on how to get your copy.

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 10:37:00 +0000

Called Out: A Brain Surgeon Goes to War

W. Lee Warren, MD

Introduction

As I write this introduction, American soldiers are serving faithfully in two combat theaters. Both wars continue, accounting for at least 4,000 lost U.S. lives in Iraq and over 1,000 in Afghanistan. Deaths among Taliban, Iraqi armed forces, insurgents and civilians are much harder to calculate, but estimates from a number of sources exceed 100,000 lost lives. Allied nations have paid a high price as well, losing over 900 men and women so far.

Clearly, these wars have taken a heavy toll in terms of lost human lives, injuries, psychological trauma, damaged national infrastructure in two countries, property destruction, and trillions of dollars. Whether or not you support the ideals and stated goals that led to these wars, or the evolving justification for continuing them, there can be no doubt that they have been (and continue to be) a major event in the world’s history.

But this is not specifically a book about war. I do not expect the only audience for this book to be people who “support” the war. In fact, I would say that biblically speaking no one should be “for” war- the bible says in Romans 12:18 “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” (New International Version). However, the bible also points out the fact that humans will forever struggle with one another. Jesus said in Matthew 24:6 that “You will hear of wars and rumors of wars.”

No, this is not a book about the Iraq war in specific, nor about the larger topic of war in general. In fact, it is not a military book, not a biography, not an historical account of some part of Operation Iraqi Freedom. This is a collection of stories from one man’s perspective about how the things experienced in the midst of a war affected him. I am that man.

In the grand scheme of things, I was a very minor player in the Iraq war. One doctor, doing his duty to the best of his abilities. I am certain that, to (mis-) quote Abraham Lincoln, “the world will little note nor long remember” the role I played there. However, I was forever changed and affected by my time there. As a man, a human being, that experience taught me more about life and, ultimately, about myself, than anything else before or since in my 40 years.

So this is a book about how a situation that seems to be one thing (such as a terrible war) can in fact be used to teach you about something else entirely (like your life). In fact, you never know when life is going to teach you something. Sometimes, God gives you a situation that you think you understand, and from out of nowhere, he reveals to you a perspective or lesson that you had no idea you were going to learn. He did that to me in many ways while I was in Iraq.

I thought I pretty much had my life figured out. I was 35 years old, a Major in the Air Force, and had just been named the Chairman of the Department of Neurosurgery at the Air Force’s largest hospital. My time in the military was going to end in about a year, and I had already accepted a job in private practice in another city.

Then, seemingly all at once, the wheels began to come off of my comfortable life. My brother became very ill, my long-troubled marriage fell into an uncontrollable tailspin that ultimately led to a divorce I never expected, and then I found out that I would have to go to Iraq. I had to take my Neurosurgery Board examination in the midst of all that stress, said by some to be the most difficult test one can take. Then, a month before I left, my grandfather died, and for the first time in my life, I started to wonder if God was singling me out for some kind of punishment.

As it turned out, God proved to be as consistent as he was all throughout the written history of himself he gave us in the Bible. Like Moses and Abraham and others before, he was simply calling me out into the desert to teach me some things. And he brought me home stronger, happier, and in better spiritual shape than ever before in my life. I decided that I should write to you in order to share some of these lessons with you, so that even if you don’t get called to the desert, you can perhaps see some ways in which God is trying to teach you the same things.

This book has several components; stories of spiritual lessons I learned from my time in Iraq, medical stories of triumph and tragedy, military stories of heroism, tyranny, and the fog of war, and letters home from one very ordinary Air Force neurosurgeon. Some of the stories are funny, some tragic, and some sad. But all of them are true and all of them fundamentally changed me in some important way. I hope that you enjoy them, and I hope they help you as much as they helped me.

The author in his work clothes, Balad Air Base, Iraq

Prologue: Departure

26 December 2004, Baltimore Maryland. Christmas trees decorated the airport in Baltimore, our final stop in the United States prior to departure for Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar. From there we would be broken up into smaller groups for transport into various destinations within the AOR, or area-of-responsibility, which is the military’s way of saying “combat zone.” For me, that would be Balad Air Base, Iraq.

I was traveling with a young airman named Nate Vanepps. Nate was a surgical technician, or “scrub tech,” assigned to be my wingman, as the Air Force called it. That meant that he was to be my surgical assistant in the combat hospital to which we were deployed, and that I was responsible for him getting to Iraq safely, since I was his commanding officer. My being a commanding officer was a bit laughable, as in the military during most of my career the doctors had largely been excluded from the “military” side of things and simply left alone to care for active duty folks, their families, and retirees. In San Antonio at Wilford Hall Medical Center, we also had a mission as a Level-1 trauma center for the city, so a large part of our work was caring for injured civilians.

That said, my only previous “command” experience was the one-week long deployment I had been put in charge of in October of 2001. At that time, the military was still trying to figure out who they were going to fight in retaliation for the 9-11 terrorist attacks, and I got called late one Friday afternoon and instructed to lead a team of 40 nurses, technicians and psychologists on a deployment for the following day. I was not told where we were going or what we would be doing, only to show up at 0400 and be packed for a year. When I arrived, I was the “senior” officer and placed in charge of chemical weapon antidotes, weapons, and a lot of scared people. We boarded a bus for Keesler Air Force Base, Mississippi and rode for 12 hours. There we sat for 7 days before being brought home and told our deployment had been cancelled. My biggest responsibility during that time was to get an airman out of a casino after he had lost most of his money gambling and confine him to his quarters. To this day I do not know where “they” were planning to send us or why they chose a neurosurgeon to lead the team.

Needless to say, when I found out that I was really going this time, and that I was actually responsible for someone else, it made me pretty nervous. We were issued weapons, body armor, helmets, and a tremendous amount of other gear, including winter parkas and heavy sleeping bags (I kid you not; the doctrine of what you needed to deploy with had not changed since the Korean War- no one had realized that you don’t need that stuff in the desert). And finally, we were issued orders and plane tickets that said Iraq on them. I knew it was real this time.

I had spent Christmas day at church playing my guitar in the worship band and having lunch with dear friends; since we were on 1 hour notice for deployment for 2 months prior to leaving, my parents and family never knew when I would actually leave. That meant that Mom and Dad were not there when I got the call. My kids had moved to Alabama with their mother, so I was with friends on Christmas day when I got the call that we were leaving in the morning.

Nate and I showed up as ordered in civilian clothes, checked in for our flight, and waited for the short flight from San Antonio to Dallas, a plane change, and on to Baltimore. Because the neurosurgeon I was replacing in Iraq had a family emergency and had to return home early, Nate and I left San Antonio about 3 weeks early, before the rest of the team from our hospital would be coming. So for us there was no fanfare, no “we’ll miss you” signs; just two pretty scared men getting on a plane heading for the unknown.

I spoke to Nate’s parents on the phone. Clyde and Nancy Vanepps are hard working and good-hearted Michigan folks who felt what any parent would feel as their son left for war. I told Clyde that I was going to take care of Nate, and that I would get him home safely. I didn’t really know what I was talking about, but I tried to sound like a good commander so as to encourage them. Little did I know that Nate and I would become very close, and his whole family would become very important to me as time went on, but more about that later.

I had a small notebook with me that I started writing in; thoughts about how I was feeling and things that I thought I would want to remember. At my Grandfather’s funeral a few weeks before I had promised my Mom and a few relatives that I would try to email them every day from Iraq if it was possible. As it turned out, this promise was fulfilled and I was able to write 120 consecutive letters. I thought that the notes I took would help me write the emails later, and I was right.

The thing about email is that when you write to one person, you have no control over what they do with that letter. My letters were routinely forwarded to other people, to the extent that I began to get replies from people I didn’t know. As days passed in Iraq, I started to receive mail and care packages from dozens, then hundreds of people from all over the world that had gotten my emails from someone else. I’ll never know how many people were reading it, but it reached all 50 states and 13 other countries that I know of.

As you will see when you read some of those letters, I didn’t write these letters to make any kind of a statement. I didn’t write about any one particular theme, or try to tell people how to feel about the war politically or spiritually. I just told what I was doing, how I was feeling and how the things that were going on over there affected me personally. However, people seemed to really appreciate that fly-on-the-wall perspective.

I should say that these letters started out as simply a way for me to communicate with my family. I am a Christian, and a lot of my letters are about spiritual things. My letters were written to relatives who think like I do, so don’t read them expecting some unbiased take on political issues. I didn’t tell people what to think, I told them what I thought. They were my take on what was going on and how it made me feel. I was amazed at some of the letters I got, with some people wanting to argue with me or complain about something I said. I never intended for my letters to be viewed as journalism. They were personal correspondence.

I will include some of the letters in this book. I’ve edited them for typographical errors (I seemed to make a lot of those; I guess typing during a mortar attack is a decent excuse) and to remove some people’s last names that I shouldn’t publish without their permission.

When Nate and I arrived in Baltimore, he met a friend for dinner since we had a 6-hour layover. That left me alone with my thoughts since I wasn’t allowed to deploy with a cell phone. I wandered around the airport and prayed, cried and wondered what I was getting myself into. A huge part of me was hurting, reeling from the several months of hell my life had become. Missing my kids, mourning my Grandfather, and aching for the known as I worried about the unknown, I passed the time.

As sad and scared as I was, I was simultaneously fascinated at the prospects of what I would see in Iraq as a physician. I knew that I was a good neurosurgeon, and I knew that I was good at taking care of severely injured people. However, I also knew that I had never seen combat injuries and never worked in an operating room built inside a tent. The doctor in me couldn’t wait to be there- could I handle it? Would I be good enough, strong enough? I wanted to face the test. It was a juxtaposition I still do not fully understand: sheer terror, utter despair, and an almost macho-like sense of “bring it on, I’m ready for it” cockiness.

I would learn over the course of my time there that no training can prepare you for what people can do to each other in war. No one is “good enough” to be in that environment and not come away from it changed. I definitely left Iraq different than I was when I arrived. I am still trying to grapple with which parts are better, and which are worse.

Eventually, we arrived in Iraq. That story will be told in the following pages. As this book unfolds, I will share details of patients I treated there. Young and old. Friendly and enemy. “Good” people and “bad” people, all humans who needed help and found it in the doctors, nurses and medics of the 332^nd Air Force Theater Hospital at Balad Air Base Iraq. Some of those stories are by their very nature quite graphic. But I promise that the details included will be for the purpose of helping you understand what it is like to function in a combat hospital environment, and to understand how it affected me personally.

A few months after I got home, I was invited to write a monthly column for the San Antonio Christian Beacon, a Christian newspaper in San Antonio. The editor, Keith Leslie, continues to publish my column each month and is one of the people responsible for this book coming about. The first series I wrote, 16 months in a row, was called “Things I Learned in Iraq,” and was comprised of stories from my time at Balad and the spiritual lessons I learned there. I will share those stories here as well, included before or after the chapter to which their subject is most relevant.

Although as I said, this book is made up of multiple components, the overall theme is one of a nearly-broken man being taken by God into the desert at seemingly the worst possible time in his life and changed for the better. I pray that you will be as blessed by reading this as I have been by living and writing it: this is the story of a brain surgeon at war.

Email home, Day 1

Hello everyone. Happy New Year!

I arrived in Iraq at about 0500 on Wednesday, Jan 29. It was quite a tiring experience getting here. I left San Antonio at 0650 on Sunday the 26^th, after a great night of worship at church the night before. Changed planes in Dallas and then switched to the military terminal in Baltimore and got on a DC-10 for the flight to Frankfurt, Germany. Problems arose with the airplane and we had to get off and wait 6 hours before we finally took off.

Once in the air, I tried to make small talk with the guys next to me, a young airman named Phil. Next to him was my surgical tech and traveling partner Nathan. No dice; these guys weren’t saying a word. Here’s where the first miracle of this trip happened. At one point Phil saw that on my iPod was Christian music (a CD that my sister Michelle gave me by Babbie Mason) and mentioned that he liked Christian music. A couple of hours later he tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I could explain grace to him! Nathan tuned right in, and we spent the next 6 hours talking about the Lord. Nathan and I spent the whole next day in Qatar talking about Him as well, and Nathan is growing rapidly. Miracle because I only prayed for two things on this trip: that God would use my hands to heal and my mouth to introduce people to Him.

We arrived in Frankfurt and had a very welcome hot cup of USO coffee waiting for us. 2 hours later, we were back on the same airplane heading to Qatar.

After 6 more hours in the air, we arrived safely at Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar. By the time we unloaded the 500 bags from the plane (we made a huge line and just passed them on down) and got our room assignments it was 2 a.m. and we were starving. We went to the very nice DFAC (dining facility) and had… Mexican food! Served by an Asian contractor! In Qatar! Weird!

Then we slept for a few hours and ate lunch and reported to the commander to find that our flight was delayed 12 hours due to a mortar attack at Balad.

Nate and I had Pizza for lunch at the Pizza Hut on base (in Qatar!).

Much more to tell you about Qatar, but no time now. I will write the Qatar stuff tomorrow. Have to go now. Please reply to let me know this is coming through. Thanks and I love you all.

W. Lee Warren, MD

Major, USAF MC

332 EMDG/AFTH

Balad Air Base, Iraq

Email Home, Day 2

Happy New Year everybody!

Ok, so I left off at the Pizza Hut in Qatar, right? After that we finally got to the C-130 and took off for Iraq around midnight on the 29^th (Wed). It was kind of scary because we had to wear our helmets and body armor and they flew in complete darkness with night vision goggles. They made this crazy evasive-maneuver landing but got the plane on the ground very smoothly. They made us sit on our body armor to land because they said that’s where the bullets would come in- from the bottom of the plane. Fortunately, no bullets on our trip!

After the 3.5-hour flight, we landed and they took our gear off the back of the plane and we stepped out into Iraq. I had a bunch of very weird emotions at that moment. In one sense, I was kind of in awe that this is right where God started human history- Tigris and Euphrates and all. In another, I was standing in the place that every American has thought of as hostile territory for at least the last decade. Plus, I was starving and very sleepy and sad to be gone from home. Then it occurred to me that this was an Iraqi airbase until we captured it last year, and that Americans died to capture it.

We got off and saw three buses waiting on the tarmac which I thought were for us. They were not. As we approached, they made us get into two lines and wait. We were then able to see them loading gear into the plane from which we just exited and as we got to the buses I could see that they were filled with fully armored and armed troops. They looked like kids. But no emotion; like robots with all their grenades and machine guns. Then I realized they were getting on that plane and were going somewhere to shoot somebody. The war never stops, even though CNN wants you to think we’re just occupiers. Guys, we’re really at war here.

Buses then came for us, and for the next several hours we were processed and shuffled around. I finally got to the hospital around 0730 on Wed the 29^th, just like my orders said! I met the other neurosurgeon and he immediately asked me to round and look at some patients’ films with him. I had some breakfast and finally got to my room by about 11, and went to sleep. I woke up at about 1730 (5:30) to the sound of my first mortar alarm. I didn’t hear the explosion, but I heard the sirens. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so I just put on my helmet and body armor and went back to sleep.

The next morning I went to the hospital and ran into the other neurosurgeon (a great Christian guy from Wisconsin named Pete - pray for him; his wife is due any minute) and realized the second miracle of my deployment so far. He showed me a patient that had just arrived from a C-130 crash. The same kind of airplane I’d been on the previous morning hit a pothole on the runway and crashed, seriously injuring 11 people. Our patient was the chaplain, and he hit his head on the side of the airplane and got a serious brain injury. Pete and I decided to not operate on him, and it turned out to be good out to be a good decision. He left here yesterday for Landstuhl Medical Center in Germany and will go to Walter Reed Army Hospital in the next few days. Remember that I was at Landstuhl last February?

We had another mortar attack later that day.

The food is bad. We’re not in Qatar anymore, Toto. (Isn’t that a weird thought- it’s better in Qatar than here?). It’s muddy; it’s very cold at night. But, the sunrise is amazing. Shouldn’t surprise us; God made the Iraqi sunrise for Adam to see. It’s really impressive. That night the moon was full and I was stunned. God is Lord of the desert, too, loved ones. He is Lord everywhere, and he is taking good care of me here. There’s a bible study every morning at 0630 with three other surgeons and a physical therapist. I met with them yesterday for the first time. It’s great to have believers here.

Well, enough for now. You all have pies to eat and football games to watch. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about my Iraqi patients, my first operation, how hard it is to call home, all about my living conditions, about this morning’s machine gun battle right outside the hospital… stay tuned!

I love each of you, and can’t wait to hear from you all. E-mail and mail are going to be precious to me. It’s lonely here.

God bless you. Remember to pray for those kids out there getting shot at. Thanks for the role each of you plays in my life. For those I’ve failed to tell, please forgive me. This experience is focusing me on the important things, and you are all part of that.

Lee

W. Lee Warren, MD

Major, USAF MC

332 EMDG/AFTH

Balad Air Base, Iraq

APO AE 09315-9997

Nate (right) and the author, USAF C-130 en route to Iraq, 26 December, 2004

Press On

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 13:40:00 +0000

(Note: This article will appear in the July edition of The Christian Beacon, www.christianbeacon.com)

Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

(Philippians 3:13-14)

Breathe, step, rest. Breathe, step, rest. My heart was pounding, breathing was very difficult as I tried to convince myself to keep going. Lisa and I were climbing in knee-deep snow up the pass between two 14,000-foot mountains in Colorado’s front range. Living in Alabama at 250 feet above sea level, the work of breathing the thin air at 11,500 feet was difficult enough. But crunching through snow, carrying a 40-pound pack, and trying not to fall down the mountain combined to make it one of the more challenging physical activities we had ever encountered.

The biggest problem was that we were already tired. A small navigational error had led us down the wrong path earlier in the day and we ended up climbing a very difficult 40-degree slope to about 12,200’ before we realized that we were on the wrong mountain! We backtracked and found the right trail, about the time I realized that somewhere along the way I had lost my cell phone.

After losing an hour and regaining the 1,000 of elevation we’d lost on the wrong trail, we were sucking wind and losing heart. Breathe, step, rest. I started asking myself what I was doing here. Why wasn’t I on a beach somewhere? Looking up the valley toward the saddle connecting Gray’s Peak to Torrey’s Peak, it seemed impossible to make it there. We were discouraged from losing time and energy from a silly mistake, and I was trying to think of how I was going to get all those phone numbers back I had now lost on the mountain. My mind was racing as fast as my heart. Lisa was trucking along with me, fighting her own battle. I had read before and was now experiencing that you might be next to your partner, but you climb a mountain alone. You have to will yourself to take every step.

As we climbed on, I found myself setting small goals: 25 more steps, then I’ll rest for 30 seconds. Or, 50 more steps and I’ll take a drink of water. We reached a very steep portion of the path, gaining each step by following someone else’s footprints in the snow. The altimeter read 13, 600 as we topped the ridge and turned left toward the summit of our goal, Gray’s Peak. Just then, the wind picked up to about 30 miles per hour. For the first time all day, we added cold to the problem. The wind sliced through us, chilling us to the bone and crushing our spirits. I was done.

I was recounting all the problems I was going to have recovering business contacts that were in my phone, grumbling over the fact that we would already be on our way down if we hadn’t gotten lost, and unhappy about the arrival of the freezing wind. My mind was full of all the reasons I couldn’t go on. I told Lisa I thought we should go down. She said, “Let’s just go a little further and see how we feel.”

At that moment, I remembered the Apostle Paul’s words in Philippians 3- “forget what is behind… press on toward the goal.” I said a little prayer and tried to focus on the remaining climb. We started up the summit ridge, and I almost fell once as snow collapsed under my boot. There were good steps from previous climbers, giving us footholds with less effort than crunching them down ourselves. 14,000 feet. 270 to go.

The wind died down, our hearts strengthened, and our resolve returned. Lisa took my hand as we stepped over the top of the ridge and walked onto the summit together. 14, 270 feet. We made it. The view from the top was spectacular.

That experience made me realize how many ‘mountains’ in our lives we fail to summit because we can’t get the past out of our heads. When faced with a problem or challenge we let past failures, troubles or sorrows hold us back. And when we do, we miss the amazing things God wants us to experience from the summit of the mountain in front of us.

Clear your head. Stop thinking about the past, because you can’t do anything about it now. But the challenge in front of you is there for a reason, and you cannot make it if you’re looking backwards. Breathe, step, rest. Before you know it, you’ll be on top of the mountain, and God will again prove his word to be true- the prize is worth the struggle. If you could do that every time you’re faced with a new mountain in your life, what would it look like?

Clean Up Your Camp

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 12:24:00 +0000

(Note: This article is part IX of the series "What Would it Look Like?" It will run in the May edition of The Christian Beacon, available online at www.christianbeacon.com)

For the LORD your God moves about in your camp to protect you and to deliver your enemies to you. Your camp must be holy, so that he will not see among you anything indecent and turn away from you.

(Deuteronomy 23:14, NIV)

My apologies in advance for the theme of this article. It’s about a delicate matter. A diverse group of experiences led to my choice of subject, culminating in my stumbling across Deuteronomy 23 during my daily Bible reading last week.

In context, the passage deals with the fact that the nation of Israel had a large number of people camped in the wilderness, and the Lord was with them. Moses faithfully recorded the Lord’s instructions as to how they were to handle their waste, stated so eloquently in the King James Version:

Thou shalt have a place also without the camp, whither thou shalt go forth abroad: And thou shalt have a paddle upon thy weapon; and it shall be, when thou wilt ease thyself abroad, thou shalt dig therewith, and shalt turn back and cover that which cometh from thee: For the LORD thy God walketh in the midst of thy camp, to deliver thee, and to give up thine enemies before thee; therefore shall thy camp be holy: that he see no unclean thing in thee, and turn away from thee. (Deuteronomy 23:12-14, KJV)

Put into modern English, though not as much fun to read, the subject matter becomes more vivid:

Designate a place outside the camp where you can go to relieve yourself. As part of your equipment have something to dig with, and when you relieve yourself, dig a hole and cover up your excrement. For the LORD your God moves about in your camp to protect you and to deliver your enemies to you. Your camp must be holy, so that he will not see among you anything indecent and turn away from you. (Deuteronomy 23:12-14, NIV)

Over the past few months, my life has been moving at its usual pace- light speed- or so it seems. We’ve been blessed with an enormous amount of work in my practice as a Neurosurgeon, and Lisa and I are in the process of starting two new business ventures simultaneously. That would be enough, but we’re also training to climb two mountains - Washington’s 14,000 foot Mt. Rainier, and Tanzania’s 19,000 foot Mt. Kilimanjaro- as we prepare to attempt Mt. Everest in a few years to raise money for brain tumor research. During our preparation for that endeavor, we’ve been reading every book we can get our hands on about mountains, camping, and climbing. And one thing we’ve learned is how important it is to keep your camp clean.

Another thing I am involved in is a leadership role that relates to the church. And it is this work that lead to the situation that made this article seem so important to write. Forgive me for this, but I am, for the sake of propriety, going to fictionalize the details of the following situation so much that no one who was involved with it will be able to identify any part of what really happened. But, you’ll see my point, and hopefully the discussion that follows will illustrate the wisdom behind the Lord’s clean-camp dictum.

It started out as a misunderstanding between two Christians about a simple thing. And as these things often do, it grew because one of those people spoke about it to someone else when they were offended instead of working it out with the person with whom they were upset. The third person thought that the real culprit was actually a forth person, who in reality had nothing to do with it. So before you knew it, phone calls and e-mails were flying, with feelings getting hurt, people getting angry, and a simple problem turning into a major issue that took a 4 hour meeting to iron out.

It never surprises me in business to see people act in very fleshly ways; name-calling, swearing, hostility, gossip… these are common issues when worldly people get cross-ways with each other. But when it happens in the church, it is always devastating to my heart. When people who are saved, who know the Lord, act just like those who do not, it is staggering. And when it involves people who are leaders, who ostensibly should possess great Godly wisdom and lead Spirit-filled lives, it is incredibly harmful to the church.

Kindness, grace, and forgiveness gave way to stubborn pride, arrogance and dishonesty for a brief time. And it was awful. It stank.

The next morning, I woke up and got into the Word, and found Deuteronomy 23 on my list for the day. And that’s when I realized what this article needed to cover.

The Lord told Moses to tell the people that since He was going to be moving about in their camp, He wanted them to keep things tidy. He didn’t want to see or step in anything vile. He says we should bury those things that are unholy, and get rid of them.

What’s the lesson for us today? In our lives, and especially in the camp (the church) we need to make sure that the things that defile- the sins of pride, arrogance, gossip, divisiveness, cliquishness, etc., are not lying around for the Lord to see. We are to get rid of them, bury them, and keep our camp clean. How can we expect the Lord to be with us if our lives are full of unholy material, spiritual refuse? And how can we expect to attract the lost to the saving message of Christ if our camp looks and smells just like theirs does?

On a mountain, if everyone just carelessly lets things go, before long there’s no clean place to sleep or walk. You have to be responsible for your own mess. And since you can’t control the inevitable production of those matters, you have to dispose of them properly. In the church, we are a group of formerly fallen sinners now redeemed by the blood of Christ, but we’re still human. So, in our flesh, we will have spiritual failures that stink up our lives at times.

The Lord says to be ready for that. Have a “paddle upon thy weapon,” and go out and get rid of that stuff when it shows up.

He wants to move among us and be with us. Make sure that your camp is ready for Him. If everyone in the church kept their camps clean of human failings, what would it look like?

The Work of Our Hands

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 11:06:00 +0000

May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us-

yes, establish the work of our hands.

Psalm 90:17 (NIV)

Two weeks ago my wife Lisa and I had an unusual treat- a week off. Well, it was mostly off. We had a little bit of work to do in Colorado and decided to turn it into a mini-vacation. We were able to get outside and see God’s creations- the mountains and the open sky that you cannot see from inside the office where we spend most of our time. It was amazing for us to be able to clear our heads, recharge out batteries and reconnect with each other.

But then, we had to come back to work.

Monday was a typical reality check- it seems that the price of a few days off is always a few days of being busier than you imagined you could ever be. Lisa was buried at the office and I ended up in the operating room until after 11 p.m. that night. Tuesday and Wednesday were busier than usual, we lead worship on Wednesday night and I operated late again on Thursday. Then came Friday, and its office full of patients that we had to see since we had been away the week before. A busy week in the operating room meant a hospital full of patients to be seen on Saturday and Sunday, and after worship and bible study Sunday, we were spent.

Monday morning I awoke in a bad mood. In fact, I was grumbling to myself about having to start all over again- long days and hard work loomed over me this week as well. I typed an email to a friend and mildly complained about my schedule for the week. And then it happened: I read my bible, and God changed my perspective.

Psalm 90:17 jumped right off the page. May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us- yes, establish the work of our hands. Let that soak in for a minute. When you have a job, a life’s work, the thing you do that provides a living for your family and forms the basis of your material contribution to society, you are receiving favor from the Lord. Further, the Word says that it is actually God who establishes the work of your hands. The Lord provides your ability and opportunity to work.

I immediately thought of several of the patients I would be operating on that day- people just like you and me save for the neurological problem that was causing them pain and disability. They no longer take for granted the ability to wake up, have breakfast and work all day. That “routine” was no longer available to them. Now their life involved pain medication, surgeries and rehab. I wondered how they would feel if they knew that their surgeon was belly aching about having to “work” that day. Any one of them would be thankful to be able to return to the “daily grind” that many people complain about. The opportunity to provide, accomplish and achieve things in your career is, indeed, a blessing.

I found Colossians 3:17- And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Then I understood fully what God was trying to tell me- He gives us the opportunity and ability to work, and He expects us to use those gifts to honor Him and to praise Him. I kept reading in Colossians 3 and found verses 23 and 24- Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.

You don’t have to look very hard in these times to see people who would love to have the job that you have. Unemployment is high, the market is rough, and the economy is in trouble. And yet I wake up in the morning and complain about my job. The Lord set me straight- He established my job and set it before me. He expects me to do that job in His name and thank Him for it. And He expects me to do it well, with all my heart, as if He was my boss. He reminded me who my ultimate inheritance will come from, and who I am really serving when I pour myself out for my patients.

Tomorrow when you wake up, read Psalm 90 and Colossians 3. Give God thanks for providing work for you, and decide that on that day you are going to view your job as an opportunity to serve Him. Then think about this: if everyone in your office worked all day as if they were working for God Himself, and if your prevailing thought about your work was how thankful you were to have it, what would that look like?

Hungry (What Would It Look Like, Part VI)

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 09:33:00 +0000

(Note: This article ran in the February 2009 edition of The Christian Beacon, www.christianbeacon.com)

Over the last several months, we’ve talked about an idea. The idea is trying to look at scripture literally and apply it to our lives without trying to ‘figure it out.’ Rather, we want to see what it would look like if we just do what scripture says.

If you have been reading these articles, I’m curious to know how it is affecting your life? Are you trying on the glasses of seeing the world through a literal scriptural lens?

If you can spend time in God’s word and not have it dramatically affect your life, there’s something wrong. If the Word of God isn’t changing you, it’s not the Word’s fault. You have to want to change. Usually, lack of change is the result of a person not actually being in the Word. Most folks just listen to what other people say about the Word, and then they think about it a little and decide how they feel- THEY decide what it means and then try to make it fit what THEY want. That line of thinking produces change alright, but not in the right direction. It produces arrogance and spiritual decline, and Satan loves it. He doesn’t mind a bit if you think about the Bible all the time, as long as you don’t start actually living it!

In James 1:22, we are told to do God’s word, not to just hear it. And Paul tells us in Colossians 3:16 to read the word so much that it dwells in us richly. In fact, Moses reminds us all that we should desire God’s words more than we desire physical food:

Deuteronomy 8:3

3 He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.

When you don’t read your Bible, it should not make you feel guilty. It should make you feel like you missed a meal. When you don’t read it for a long time, it should make you feel like you’re starving to death. I heard a preacher say once that bibles that are falling apart are owned by people who are not!

The Word is our food. We must be doers of the Word.

If we make the word of God our food, and start to feel hungry when we’re not reading it, we’ll be on our way to having our priorities in the place Jesus tells us they should be.

Matthew 6:33

33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

Jesus consistently tells us that our lives are not to be about us; they are about others and about a higher purpose. Jesus said that we should seek the Kingdom first, because He had just told us in Matthew 6:21 that our heart will always reside in the place where our treasure is.

What do you treasure? It might be money, or food, or clothes. It might be a person, or a title. It might actually be treasure- diamonds or gold or a boat or a car. It could be time- hobbies, sports, an animal. What do you treasure? Be honest now.

Jesus is really gentle here. He’s telling us softly that bad things happen to earthly treasures. People die, markets collapse. Jewelry is stolen. Hunting seasons pass. Companies close. Spouses cheat, beauty fades. Jesus says if your treasure is earthly, you’re heading for a broken heart. Because your heart lies with your treasure.

Less gently than Jesus says it, Paul bluntly states in Philippians 3:18-19 that people living for themselves have the “gods” in their stomachs and are enemies of the cross! And John in I John 2:15-17 says it plainly as well: if you love the World, you can’t love the Father.

But of course, Jesus said it best: you can’t serve two masters. And He ended the line of thought by giving us the only plan for our salvation and our peace:

Matthew 6:33

33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

How do we do it? How do we change our priorities from earthly things to Christ? I would suggest that it all starts with changing your diet. The Word is your food. Remember what I said: Bibles that are falling apart are owned by people who are not.

My question for you today is this: if starting today, you sought the Kingdom of God first in everything you do, what would your life look like?

Christmas Present (What Would It Look Like, Part V)

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 09:28:00 +0000

(Note: This article ran in the January, 2009 edition of The Christian Beacon, www.christianbeacon.com)

For many of us, the Christmas season we just went through is our favorite time of year. The family time, the food, the classic music and movies… it’s wonderful. I pray that you had a great time this year, and that you received some terrific gifts. But, in the spirit of all that we just experienced during Christmas, I would like to talk about one more gift- one that’s been prepared for every one of us. This month we are going to look at what God chose to give to us.

Now I am sure that all of you know that God sent His Son here to die for our sins. The whole point of Christmas is to remember the birth of our Savior, right? But let’s look at God’s gift a little closer.

You see, the gift of our salvation is everything. It’s the most important thing you’ll ever encounter in your life, and the most significant decision made by God since He decided to create us in the first place. Since we all sinned, someone else had to pay for our sins. And the only sacrifice that would be acceptable to God was the blood of His only Son.

Does that blow your mind that God sacrificed His own Son for our sins? It was a pretty hard thing to grasp, even for the Apostle Paul. In fact, in II Corinthians 9 he describes it as indescribable! God gave us the gift of His Son so that we could look forward to eternity with Him.

Jesus’ ministry on earth was all about helping other people in ways that pointed them to the real gift- the gift that God has in store for us when we get to go home. In fact, just before He went to the cross He reminded us that He was going to prepare a place for us (John14:1-3).

There is no gift you could ever give or receive that could compare to the one you’ve already been given if you’ve accepted Christ as your Savior. Or the one He so desperately wants to give you if you haven’t.

In John 14, Jesus is having one of His last conversations with His disciples before He dies for our sins. He’s just finished describing the home His Father has prepared for us, and it’s like one of those infomercials where someone says, “But wait, there’s more!”

Wouldn’t it have been enough for Him to save us? That’s an amazing, unprecedented gift, right? But not only did He give it to us, but He couldn’t wait to have us home with Him; He wanted to be with us right now.

In our family, we give a present on the night before Christmas. And it’s usually the one we’re most excited about, the one they least expect. We call it “an early.”

We see in John 14 that God gave us an early! And His name is the Holy Spirit.

Wow. Not only did God die for us and prepare a home for us, but He also promises to live right inside us and help us live our lives! Trust me; this is better than any gift you received this year for Christmas.

Have you ever seen an athlete with unbelievable athletic skill who just never performs up to his level of talent? Or who can’t manage their life and wastes it on habits or illegal activities? Does it make you mad? Sometimes I see things like that and wonder how anyone could waste such a rare and precious gift.

God has spoken about people who waste or misuse the gifts He has given. Paul says in I Thessalonians 5 and Ephesians 4 we can abuse the gift of the Spirit- Paul calls it “quenching” or “grieving” the Spirit.

Can you imagine grieving God on purpose? Paul says that when we make choices in our life that are against God’s will, we cause Him pain. After all, don’t forget that He made a huge sacrifice to give you those gifts.

When we think about what God did for us, it can be staggering. God: perfect, blameless and righteous God. He loves us enough to sacrifice His only Son. And then He doesn’t even think that’s enough! He sends His Holy Spirit to live inside us. Wow. That’s a great gift.

As we move into a new year, let’s all resolve to appreciate the gift He died to give us and the fact that He’s inside us all the time, trying to make our lives more full. Let’s live the gift.

If every one of us remembered how great a gift God has given us, and lived like we remembered He was right inside us all the time, what would it look like?

Thanksgiving (What Would it Look Like, Part IV)

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 10:52:00 +0000

(Note: This article ran in the December, 2009 edition of The Christian Beacon, www.christianbeacon.com)

By the time you read this, you will have celebrated the Thanksgiving holiday. Depending on your family’s tradition, you might have gathered around a table for turkey, ham, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, and Aunt Gussie’s pumpkin pie. And maybe after lunch you played a little football in the yard or watched the Dallas Cowboys play on television. Probably at some point, you took a moment to recount your blessings and remind the kids what the day, “Thanksgiving Day,” is supposed to be about- being thankful.

The bible has a lot to say about being thankful. One of my favorite verses is Psalm 69:30. Read David’s words here: I will praise God's name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving. This is a great memory verse for your kids- praise God’s name! Easy to memorize, easy to repeat.

My question for you, however, is this: is this verse easy to live out? Think about it, and be honest. Do you practice being thankful every day, or just when your belly’s full of the feast and it’s time to go through the ritual of telling everyone at the table how glad you are that God put them in your family? In this time, there are many daily challenges to being thankful. Take a look at the stock market, read the news, think about the world and you can have a lot of things on your mind. Maybe you thought you were about to retire and now your 401k looks like a 104f, or the news from the doctor wasn’t good. Perhaps the marriage isn’t going so well.

It is true that there are times in our lives when it can seem pretty hard to find anything to be thankful for. Sometimes the world seems like it is crashing around us, and we can’t find our safe place. People break your heart, and trouble seems to find you in every nook and cranny of your life. What’s the solution? I think King David in the Psalms has the answer: praise God’s name.

Wait a minute, you say. It’s easy to be thankful when you’re the King, right? He had unlimited wealth, power, and resources of a nation at his fingertips. What could he have to not be thankful for?

Just as in all bible study questions like the one I asked, the answer lies in context. If you read the rest of this psalm, you’ll be amazed at what’s happening here. David isn’t actually King yet; he’s actually running for his life from Saul who is trying to kill him. Phenomenally, the recitation of his troubles builds all through the chapter, culminating in verse 29: 29 I am in pain and distress; may your salvation, O God, protect me.

David, in the midst of his worst trouble, knew that the answer was to be mindful of the One who could help. And he stopped to say thanks. Job, in another story about a person who faced unbelievable personal trials, said it this way in Job 2:10- “…We accept the good that God gives us. Shouldn't we also accept the bad?”

It isn’t easy to be thankful when you are hurting, stressed, or in serious trouble. But God knows that the best way to handle any situation is to rest in Him and let Him handle it. And having a heart to praise Him for the big picture of what He’s done in your life and is going to do for you eternally is a sure-fire way to make whatever your day looks like feel better to you.

David the oppressed and hunted young man, turned to thank God in the midst of his storm. And later, as an old man who had been King for many years, left a command for his people to remind them of this truth. I Chronicles 23:30 says that David instructed the Levites to …stand every morning to thank and praise the LORD. They were to do the same in the evening.

I pray that you enjoyed your Thanksgiving, and that this is a year that you and your family have a lot of things you can easily give thanks for. But if you’re having a hard time, I would ask you to remember that the God who made and forgave you has asked you to thank him in spite of your circumstance. He has plans to be good to you (Jeremiah 29:11), always works for your good (Romans 8:28), intends to save you (Romans 10:13)- and he came here to help you enjoy this life as you anticipate the next (John 10:10).

In Psalm 50:23, David gives us a promise that having a thankful heart will produce results with God- He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God."

Imagine a world where everyone stopped to say thanks to God even at the worst possible moment in his or her life- where everyone said “I will praise God's name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving.” What would that look like?

Neighbor (What Would it Look Like part 3)

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 20:42:00 +0000

This series of articles is about us imagining what the world would be like if we started interpreting scripture literally. This month, let’s look at another example of Jesus giving us something to think about in our lives. And, like everything He does, it is deeper than it first seems. Read the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25-37.

Here we have a Jewish lawyer coming to Jesus to test Him- trying to catch Jesus in some way teaching something they could fault Him for. It’s interesting to me that the man already knew enough of the law to answer his own question. When he replies, " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'^[c]; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself,’" Jesus tells him that he’s right. But the man could not simply accept the word- he wanted an easy answer. Maybe Jesus would tell him that Jews were his neighbor. Maybe only the people in his neighborhood. He was ready to tell Jesus that he did love these people. But Jesus is never as simple as He seems, is He?

Jesus sets this up perfectly (of course). The man is robbed and they steal his clothes. He has no identity here. It could be anyone, from any race or religion. In doing this, Jesus takes away any ability for the other characters to latch onto anything other than this man’s humanity in their decision to help him or not.

We see the priest come along, and all he sees is a man lying naked in the road. Now, before we get too judgmental of the Priest, let’s think for a moment about the situation. The man looks dead, and the priest probably thought that he was. If you read the Old Testament, you’ll realize that no one was allowed to come within 4 cubits of a dead person without being considered unclean; that’s about 8 feet- the Priest had to give the man a wide birth. Read Numbers 19 and you’ll see why this was a big deal to him- in his mind it probably wasn’t worth trying to help this man that he assumed was already dead.

At this point in the story, the lawyer was probably feeling pretty good; if a priest didn’t help, why should we be expected to? Then Jesus tells us that the Levite passed by as well. The lawyer feels even better. Two Holy men have walked past this victim.

But this is where the story turns. The one person who stops to help is a Samaritan! And he doesn’t just help; he goes the extra mile. He pours oil and wine- two things the Priest and the Levite would have been expected to do in their sacrificial system. He gives the man shelter, pays his debts, and promises to return for him.

At the end of the story, Jesus asks the Lawyer who the real neighbor was. Still carrying a lifetime of prejudice, he can’t even bring himself to say, “the Samaritan,” so he answers generically.

Where do you find yourself in this story? With whom do you most closely identify?

Jesus says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”

So when he says that we are to love the Lord your God with all your heart, and love your neighbor as yourself, where do we put that?

Again, we look to Jesus.

Jesus walked the same roads we walk. When we were robbed and beaten and left for dead by Satan, all of our own efforts, even our own religious notions failed us and walked on by. But our neighbor came. He walked the road, saw us in our needy state, and stopped to help. He anointed us with oil, gave us the wine of his blood, and carried us to shelter. He paid our debts and vouched for us with the inn keeper and promised to come back for us. He loves us as much as He loves Himself.

When Jesus taught the story of the Good Samaritan, He was giving us an example of how to love others. He wants us to love our neighbors even if it’s inconvenient. Even when it is dangerous. Even when the neighbor is someone we don’t really want to love.

Jesus told the lawyer that the way to victory is to finish in third place: God, others, and then yourself. That’s a pretty different message than we hear today, isn’t it?

Jesus told us what makes a good neighbor, and lived it out for us. John says it like this:

John 15:13
Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.

Can you imagine a world where God’s word was taken literally, and everyone loved their neighbor as much as they loved themselves? What would that look like?

Commitment (What Would it Look Like part 2)

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 11:47:00 +0000

(This article is part 2 of a series that has been running for several months in The San Antonio Christian Beacon. I will post them every couple of days until they are all online. The first post in this blog, "Trapped," is the current article for The Beacon, and will appear in the March 2009 edition. The Beacon is available online at www.christianbeacon.com)

"If you love me, you will obey what I command.”

(John 14:15, NIV)

This month’s article might be a little bit less fun to read than some are. That is because if we’re going to try to take scripture literally, we run into some hard concepts. That should not surprise us, though; Jesus Christ’s message was not comfortable to His listeners. So, if we are to search out His will for our lives, we are inevitably going to encounter some difficult ideas and commands. The first thing we need to do if we’re going to understand what God wants from us is to get into His word and seek it out. So let’s start with something Jesus said on this topic:

Luke 9:23 (NIV)

23Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.

When we ask the question of what Jesus wants from us, His answer is plain: He wants commitment.

The story of the rich young man in Mark 10:7-11 is an example of a person who encountered Jesus with the question of what Jesus expected of Him. Why do you think that Jesus asked this man to sell all of his possessions? Do you think that God needed the young man’s money? No; Jesus was looking into the man’s heart, and He knew what the man was really committed to. Jesus did not care about the money; He wanted commitment.

Jesus wants us to commit to Him, especially in the places we think we need to maintain control of. Why do you think that is the case? It is because ultimately, being committed to God is better for us. Let’s go back to Luke and hear the rest of the exchange:

Luke 9:24 (NIV)

24For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.

Committing to Christ always costs you something. In some cases, it could mean radical changes in lifestyle. If you’re called to Christ, and your life contains some things of which He does not approve, He wants you to change. For others, it might be more of a matter of priority. Let’s ask Jesus what He thinks our priorities in life should be:

Matthew 6:33 (NIV)

33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

Obviously, I could write all day long and not cover all the different ways Christ could ask us to commit to Him. So instead, let me just ask you one question:

What would it look like if Christ were only as committed to us as we are to Him?

Imagine Christ and the disciples in the upper room sharing the Passover feast. It is the night on which He is to be betrayed, and the next day He knows He will be crucified. But imagine if, on that night, He decides to do His own thing. He doesn’t feel like going through all that. He decides instead to enjoy the time with His friends, and stay in the upper room for a while. He never goes to the garden. Judas and the mob won’t find Him, and He never goes to Calvary. He decides that, just this once, He’s going to do it His way, putting aside His character as God and acting in His flesh as a man.

One decision made. The whole world changes. No hope for any of us.

Aren’t you glad He was committed?

I understand that this is not easy to think about- Jesus deciding that He was not committed to the cause of saving us is inconceivable to us. But is it inconceivable to you that your commitment to Him might sometimes waiver? And although it is easy to see what the consequences of one brief failure of Christ’s commitment to us would have looked like, do you believe that failed commitment on your part can have major consequences?

On one occasion, Jesus’ teaching was so challenging that a group of disciples left Him. Jesus then turned to His closest followers with this question:

John 6:67-69 (NIV)

67"You do not want to leave too, do you?" Jesus asked the Twelve.68Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. 69We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."

It’s just as true today. He has the words of eternal life. If we were as committed to Him as He is to us, what would it look like?

Literally (What Would it Look Like part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 01:34:00 +0000

(This article is part 1 of a series that has been running for several months in The San Antonio Christian Beacon. I will post them every couple of days until they are all online. The first post in this blog, "Trapped," is the current article for The Beacon, and will appear in the March 2009 edition. The Beacon is available online at www.christianbeacon.com)

"If you love me, you will obey what I command.”

(John 14:15, NIV)

I was reading my Bible the other day while preparing for a family devotional when I ran across this verse in John. Though I’ve read it many times over the years, it hit me differently on that day. All of a sudden, it seemed a lot more literal to me than ever before. I started thinking about Jesus’ words with no theological filters, no pre-conceived notions, no pile of doctrines properly arranged and applied to understand the Word; just the plain ink-on-paper words: “If you love me, you will obey what I command.”

You may not find this so profound. But on that day, I realized that if I am to be a follower of Christ I need to take His words seriously- all of them. As I grappled with this novel idea, I began to see a path forming that would lead me into new territory in my walk with Christ. It took me to a place where we are asked to let the Bible actually govern our actions rather than just representing general instruction or “good principles” to follow. It was a scary place.

Over the last few weeks in my prayer and study time, I’ve been trying to look at the Word through this new lens. And I’ve seen some things that are hard to walk out as I try to let the Lord have more control in my life.

So, poor reader, I invite you to join me in a new adventure. For the next year or so, I want to examine a new thought. When we read a scripture in which we are instructed on a particular topic, we will ask one question: If I applied that verse to my life literally, what would it look like?

Now many of you have probably already thought to yourselves, “I already do that.” And maybe you do. Perhaps I am a particularly simple fellow and this isn’t such a paradigm shift for you. But it is at least possible that some of you have never thought about scripture on this level before. And so if you think I’m making a big deal out of something that seems like we should have mastered by now, let me give you just one example of what I’m talking about.

So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. (II Corinthians 5:16, NIV).

Think for a minute about the people you will encounter today. Your neighbor across the street that you will see when you walk to your car. The guy at the gas station where you buy your coffee. The lady at the front desk at your office. Think about your manager. You know, the lady who is always crabby in the mornings. The coach of your daughter’s soccer team, or the parent of that kid who always seems to be in a bad mood.

If you take II Corinthians 5:16 literally, then you have to put on a new set of glasses in the morning. All of a sudden you have a new thought about all those people you will see today. What do you know about them? Are they saved? Why is she in a bad mood? Could he be searching for something that you have?

Let’s just think about one of those people for a moment: the Bread-N-Buggy store on the corner is a little place you stop every morning for a bagel and a cup of coffee. The same guy is there every day. He’s about your age, speaks with a heavy accent, and never has much to say. You’ve got your morning routine down to about 45 seconds in the store each day. You don’t think you have ever even noticed his name.

Today, though, you’ve got new eyes. You remember the verse- regard no one from a worldly point of view.

So today when the man behind the counter at the gas station hands you your change, you notice a little sadness in his eyes. You ask him if he’s ok, and he looks at you for a moment, as if he’s deciding if you really care. Then he timidly tells you that he found out yesterday that his wife has breast cancer. You tell him that you’ll pray for her, and the conversation that follows leads him to ask you to tell him more about this Jesus you are talking about. He ends up coming to know Christ, and the church rises up to care for his family during his wife’s illness. This results in their youngest son growing up to become a missionary, who ends up bringing the gospel to the small African country from which his grandparents emigrated.

One encounter, one moment, one key difference in the way you behaved leads to a world of difference. And it was all because you took the Word literally. If we all did that every day, what would it look like?

Trapped

noreply@blogger.com (W. Lee Warren, MD) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 13:30:00 +0000

He who covers and forgives an offense seeks love, but he who repeats or harps on a matter separates even close friends. Proverbs 17:9 (AMP)

I came across this verse this morning and it stopped me in my tracks. I’ve been praying a lot lately for a number of people in my life that have been having trouble with various relationships. When I read this verse, it dawned on me that most of those problems revolve around hurt feelings. When a person says something potentially offensive to someone, what happens next often can change the course of a day, a week, even an entire life.

Have you ever played with Chinese Handcuffs? You put your fingers in the ends and the when you pull your hands apart, the paper closes in and traps you. It is quite counterintuitive if you’ve never seen this puzzle before, because logic says to pull harder, but when you do, the trap only gets tighter. In the end, you push your hands together and the trap opens and you are free. It can be amusing to watch someone struggle with such a simple thing.

Similarly, but on a much more important level, people can become trapped in what seems from an outside perspective to be a very simple thing. Have you watched as people you care about destroyed their relationship over what appears from the outside to be very minor offenses? Has this ever happened to you?

One common theme in these “people traps” is that they are set by one skillful trapper- Satan. He loves to lay little traps for us. The Devil loves to work by helping people be easily offended. Because when a person is offended he or she is usually too prideful to admit the source of it. And when you allow Satan to deceive you about why you are upset, all Hell can literally break loose. There seems to be no end to how bad a situation between two people can get once one or both of them are offended.

The Apostle Paul described this as a “snare” of the devil in II Timothy 2.
23 But avoid foolish and ignorant disputes, knowing that they generate strife. 24 And a servant of the Lord must not quarrel but be gentle to all, able to teach, patient, 25 in humility correcting those who are in opposition, if God perhaps will grant them repentance, so that they may know the truth, 26 and that they may come to their senses and escape the snare of the devil, having been taken captive by him to do his will. (NKJV)

Did you catch that? Satan traps people through quarrels, using their hurt feelings to deceive them, and taking them captive to do his will! I am certain that none of us want to do Satan’s will, but in the same breath I will admit that I frequently take offense and find myself in the trap.
What happens when you are offended by someone? Be honest. I’ll confess my typical situation, for the record. See if it resonates with you.

My co-worker sends me an email one night regarding some issue at work. In reading it, I am struck by one phrase he used, and it seems to me that he is being sarcastic. I spend several minutes thinking to myself about what he meant, and I decide he was being snide. Not wanting to acknowledge this, I rehearse how I am going to reply. I go to bed that night and wake the next day brooding over his email. How could he say that? I spend my entire drive to work talking out loud over and over, planning what I am going to say to put him in his place. How dare he?

I get to work, steaming inside. Of course, as a Christian, I do not want to seem angry or upset. When other colleagues interact with me, they say something like, “Is anything wrong?” I reply, “No, I am fine.”

You can guess where this usually goes. Eventually I talk to my friend and tell him that his email offended me. He is shocked and tells me that he meant it in a different way. He apologizes for hurting my feelings, and I am slightly embarrassed that I failed to simply ask him to clarify his email before reacting to it. But the situation cost me 18 hours of inner pain, and my hours of being offended (unnecessarily) produced time when I was not praying, not reading the Word, not letting the Lord determine my steps. I was in the trap.

Here’s the thing: people are going to offend you. Jesus promised us that in Luke 17.
1 Then He said to the disciples, “It is impossible that no offenses should come, but woe to him through whom they do come! 2 It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were thrown into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones. 3Take heed to yourselves. If your brother sins against you, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. 4 And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you, saying, ‘I repent,’ you shall forgive him.”

So, it is going to happen. What happens next, however is in your control. Jesus makes it clear that our role in the situation is simple- forgive. He clearly does not want us to be people who cause offense, and He clearly does not authorize us to take offense. We are to forgive. If you are offended and are hearing anything else in your head other than “forgive him, because I forgave you,” then perhaps it’s not Jesus you are hearing.

Paul says that when we are offended, we can allow Satan to deceive us and lead us into his trap. Read the II Timothy passage again- Paul is referencing those who are offended when he says that they need to repent and “…come to their senses and escape the snare of the devil.”

Look back at all the times you’ve been offended in your life. How many of those times were you actually correct in what you thought was offensive? How many times was it just a misunderstanding? How often was it something that really justified your response to it, and was the cost to you of your reaction more than the cost of the offense?

In all these situations, as I watch my friends struggle in their relationship Chinese handcuff, I realize one thing: if everyone could keep in mind the amazing ways in which we offend Christ and the more amazing way in which He keeps forgiving us, we would be much more patient with each other. Jesus tells a chilling story in Matthew 18:23-35 of how the Father will deal with unforgiving people who forget how much He has forgiven them.

I pray that today you will think twice before you step into the trap Satan is assuredly setting for you. How much better will today be for you if you hear Jesus’ words, “forgive,” and stop listening to your Enemy saying “be offended?”

If you determined in your heart that you were going to pray and ask the Lord how to react every time you initially felt offended, would that change your day? What would that look like?