Finishing

I was talking with Jeremy today about his PhD program at Ole Miss, and he told me that one of his cohorts dropped out of the program. I remember working on my degree at Ole Miss and how surprised I was at how many fellow students did 3 years of seminars and course work and then dropped out of the program. They became ABDs—all but dissertation. It surprises me how many things we start but do not finish.

I have not heard a single story of a man with prostate cancer who has started these treatments but has not finished them. These guys have come here from Maine and New York, the Carolinas, Georgia, Tennessee and many other states for treatment. Some are retired and some still in the workplace. There are business owners, policemen, career Marines, pilots, teachers and many others. They have all come here to finish treatment for their cancer or tumors. All things are not as serious as cancer treatment. What determines whether something is worth finishing or not?

I was in Iraq in June, 2004 when the USA planned to give control of the country to an Iraqi provisional government. My colleague and I planned to depart two days before the planned event—we were going to get out of Dodge before the anticipated fireworks.

A couple days before our scheduled departure we were closing out the day with a prayer time with our fellow workers who lived in this house that backed up to the home of the Iraqi who had been chosen to be the leader of the provisional government. I was a little overwhelmed by the presence of Iraqi military personnel who were guarding his house. Some were perched in barricades built along the wall between the houses and others were scattered all around the area. I decided that this was either one of the safest places to be in Baghdad or it was one of the most dangerous places to be. I decided on the former and did not think any more about it.

We had a good time together with the workers sharing and praying, and it was about time to wrap up. Someone was praying. It was 10:15pm. Suddenly the ground began to tremble. The sounds of heavy machinery creaking along filled the living room. Prayer time was over. We ran to the windows to peek out and saw US military tanks and personnel carriers all around the house. I am a farmer, and farmers are curious. I wanted to go outside and find out what was happening. No one wanted to go with me. Finally, a young man decided to accompany me.

As we walked outside, a US army sergeant came up to us, introduced himself as being from Ft. Hood, and greeted us in a friendly manner; then he asked what he could do to help us. I replied that we just wanted to make sure that they knew that some Americans were in this house and that we were concerned for our safety. He assured me that he knew who was in the house and that we did not have to be concerned.

That was easy for him to say, but as we were talking, soldiers were jogging all around us setting up sentries and barricades. The roar of the tank engines almost drowned out our conversation. I asked what was happening and he replied they were on a mission. After a couple more questions to which he replied with more information about him being from California originally and other chit chat, I realized that he was not going to give us any information about this mission. So, finally, I asked him, “Sergeant, how long are you going to be positioned in our yard?” His quick response was, “Sir, we will be here until the mission is accomplished!”

Lord, when I say that I am going to do something, convict me to follow through and stay with that commitment until the mission is accomplished.