On Wednesday we went to the beautiful coastal fishing village of San Juan Del Sur on the Pacific coast.
I always enjoy going to tourist places because that is when I get to meet people that I can really talk to in my own language.
Alissa and I decided to go lay out on the beach for awhile and work on our tans, when suddenly a guy came up and sat down right in front of us.
At first I was a little annoyed, guys seem to be attracted to our white skin, and it seems like we are always getting weird looks and calls.
But this man was different.
His name was Anthony Montana, and he immediately introduced himself as a second lieutenant airborne division in the United States Army.
He is a Cuban American and fought in Desert Storm and for the last three years in Iraq.
I immediately felt so much compassion for this man, for all the pain and loss he has endured as a soldier fighting for us and for the freedom of our country.
He began to tell us story after story of loss, rejection, pain, and death.
His wife had just left him because she could no longer be married to someone who was always away.
He is still in love with her and terribly misses his twin daughters, Jazel and Ashley.
His best friend was killed in Iraq at the age of nineteen when his helicopter went down.
He was caught as a prisoner and they slit his throat.
He told us about Iraq, how you walk through the heat and the sand all day, never knowing what step will be your last.
He told us that hell is living here on earth.
That as a soldier you’re only God is an M-16 because it is the only thing that can save you.
I asked him if he knew God or believed in him.
He began to tell us a story of a night he was in Iraq.
He asked God that night that if he was really real to show him a sign.
That night he was supposed to be keeping watch for his men, but he fell asleep.
In his dream a man came up to him and told him in Spanish, his native language, to wake up and get his men ready for an attack.
So he woke up and got his men ready and a few minutes later they were attacked.
Because of that dream his men survived, and after the battle he looked up to the sky and saw a really bright star, flashing at him.
He knew that that was his sign.
We talked about Heaven and Hell, and he fought to try to find some kind of meaning and understanding.
He said he has seen enough death to know that when you die there is nothing, just no more pain.
I told him my beliefs and how I knew that he could go to heaven, but he wasn’t quite ready to accept it.
He couldn’t understand that you can be a Christian and a soldier at the same time.
He kept saying how can I be a Christian and then go and kill thousands of people?
How can I go to heaven after all the bad things I have done.
I tried so hard to make him understand, and I think in the end he did.
That I will never know, but I think a few seeds were planted in his heart during our conversation.
I wanted so badly to let him know how much we care about him, and how much he will be remembered.
So I did all that I knew I could, I prayed with him, and thanked him for risking his life everyday to save mine.
I think we all need to take the time to listen to the stories of our soldiers.
To let them know how proud and thankful we are of them and how much it means to us that they are fighting for our freedom.
That they will not be
forgotten.
I truly believe that someday I will see Anthony in heaven, and I will not forget him.
