Troop Prayer Thread 4

Welcome to the Troop Prayer Thread! We gather here together in the belief that "whereever two or more are gathered in my name, there am I," and that by the grace of God, group prayer effort can be a great force for good in the world.

We are listing here members of the active armed services known to us for whom we want to pray. We are also seeking to keep track of the Captured/MIAs here for prayer purposes.

If you would like to submit someone for our list, you are welcome to do so at any time. Post their name or pseudonym here on the thread or freepmail amom or myself. If we have made any errors, please let us know so that we may correct the list. We will be making periodic updates. If you want to be added or removed from the ping list please let amom or me know by freepmail.

We invite everyone, active Freepers and Lurkers alike to join our circle in prayer for these fine men and women who have volunteered to place their lives on the line for the defense of our nation and for the liberation of the oppressed peoples of other nations. To them we send our greatest respect and gratitude. We send them our prayers and good thoughts. We ask for God's blessing upon them and their families.

For those of us who have somewhat limited computer capacity, we request that graphics be limited to pictures of loved ones for whom we are offering prayers, special visuals that seem particularly appropriate, and as much as possible, non-moving graphics. Thank you.

Patrick Miller
Joseph Hudson
Edgar Hernandez
James Riley
David Williams
Ronald Young
Shoshana Johnson

Army Sgt. Donald Ralph Walters, 33, of Salem, Ore., 507th Maintenance Company, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Army Pvt. Ruben Estrella-Soto, 18, of El Paso, Texas, 507th Maintenance Company, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Army Pvt. Brandon Ulysses Sloan, 19, of Bedford, Ohio, 507th Maintenance Company, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Army Pfc. Lori Ann Piestewa, 23, of Tuba City, Ariz., 507th Maintenance Company, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Army Chief Warrant Officer Johnny Villareal Mata, 35, of El Paso, Texas, 507th Maintenance Company, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Army Pfc. Jessica D. Lynch, 19, of Palestine, W.Va., 507th Maintenance Company, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Army Master Sgt. Robert J. Dowdy, 38, of Cleveland, 507th Maintenance Company, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Army Spc. James M. Kiehl, 22, of Comfort, Texas, 507th Maintenance Company, Fort Bliss, Texas.

Marine Lance Cpl. Patrick R. Nixon, 21, of Gallatin, Tenn. Assigned to the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, Camp Lejeune, N.C.

Marine Lance Cpl. Michael J. Williams, 31, Arizona (city not available). Assigned to the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, Camp Lejeune, N.C.

Marine Lance Cpl. Donald J. Cline, Jr., 21, of Washoe, Nev. Assigned to the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, Camp Lejeune, N.C.

Marine Pvt. Jonathan L. Gifford, 30, of Decatur, Ill. Assigned to the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, Camp Lejeune, N.C.

Marine Pvt. Nolen R. Hutchings, 19, of Boiling Springs, S.C. Assigned to the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, Camp Lejeune, N.C.

Marine Pfc. Tamario D. Burkett, 21, of Buffalo, N.Y. Assigned to the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, Camp Lejeune, N.C.

Marine Cpl. Kemaphoom A. Chanawongse, 22, of Waterford, Conn. Assigned to the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, Camp Lejeune, N.C.

Marine Lance Cpl. Thomas A. Blair, 24, of Broken Arrow, Okla. Assigned to the 2nd Low Altitude Air Defense Battalion, Marine Air Control Group-28, 2nd Marine Aircraft Wing, Cherry Point, N.C.

Isaiah 58

Cry aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet, and shew my people their transgression, and the house of Jacob their sins.
Yet they seek me daily and delight to know my ways, as a nation that did righteousness, and forsook not the ordinance of their God: they ask of me the ordinances of justice; they take delight in approaching to God.
Wherefore have we fasted, say they, and thou seeth not? wherefore have we afflicted our soul, and thou takest no knowledge? Behold, in the day of your fast ye find pleasure, and exact all your labours.
Behold, ye fast for strife and debate, and to smite with the fist of wickedness: ye shall not fast as ye do this day, to make your voice to be heard on high.
Is it such a fast that I have chosen? a day for a man to afflict his soul? is it to bow down his head as a bulrush, and to spread sackcloth and ashes under him? wilt thou call this a fast, and acceptable day to the LORD?
Is not this the fast I have chosen? to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?
Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house? when thou seeth the naked, that thou cover him; and that thy hide not thyself from thine own flesh?
Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thine health shall spring forth speedily: and thy righteousness shall go before thee; the glory of the LORD shall be thy reward.
Then shalt thou call, and the LORD shall answer; thou shalt cry, and he shall say, Here I am. If thou take away from the midst of thee the yoke, the putting forth of the finger, and speaking vanity;
And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thou light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noon day:
And the LORD shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.
And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shalt be called, The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in.
If thou turn away thy foot from the sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day,; and call the sabbath a delight, the holy of the LORD honorable; and shalt honor him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words:
Then shalt thou delight thyself in the LORD; and I will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the earth, and feed thee the heritage of Jacob thy father: for the mouth of the LORD hath spoken it.

Thank you for sharing your very moving experience. Thank you
for your prayers and for leading us all in prayer. I
have been very bitter and anxious and worried about my
brothers and I have received consolation from these prayers.

Below is a well known episode which happened many years
ago but still gets published, most recently in Cath.Fam. News:

The Story of Michael

Background

What follows is a copy of a letter that was written by a young Marine to his mother while he was hospitalized after being
wounded on a Korean battlefield in 1950. It came into the hands of a Navy Chaplain, who read the letter before 5,000
Marines at a San Diego Naval Base in 1951.

The Navy Chaplain had talked to the boy, to the boy's mother and to the Sergeant in charge of the patrol. This Navy
Chaplain, Father Walter Muldy, would always assure anyone who asked that this is a true story.

This letter had been read once a year in the 1960s at a Midwestern radio station at Christmas time. Since thousands of U.S.
troops now head to the Persian Gulf for the planned war against Iraq, we publish this remarkable story once more, in the hope
that many servicemen and their families will invoke the intercession and protection of Saint Michael. We present the letter and
let it stand on its own merits. (J. V.)

Dear Mom,

I wouldn't dare write this letter to anyone but you because no one else would believe it. Maybe even you will find it hard but I
have got to tell somebody.

First off, I am in a hospital. Now don't worry, ya hear me, don't worry. I was wounded but I am okay you understand.
Okay. The doctor says that I will be up and around in a month.

But that is not what I want to tell you.

Remember when I joined the Marines last year; remember when I left, how you told me to say a prayer to St. Michael every
day. You really didn't have to tell me that. Ever since I can remember you always told me to pray to St. Michael the Archangel.
You even named me after him. Well I always have.

When I got to Korea, I prayed-----even harder. Remember the prayer that you taught me?
"Michael, Michael of the morning fresh corps of Heaven adorning," you know the rest of it. Well I said it every day.
Sometimes when I was marching or sometimes resting. But always before I went to sleep. I even got some of the other fellas to
say it.

Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the Commies. I was plodding
along in the bitter cold, my breath was like cigar smoke.

I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when along side of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger
than any other Marine I'd ever seen. He must have been 6'4" and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have
such a body near.

Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start a conversation I said, "Cold ain't it."
And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather.

My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly; I looked at him, "I have
never seen you before, I thought I knew every man in the outfit."

"I just joined at the last minute", he replied. "The name is Michael."

"Is that so," I said surprised. "That is my name too."

"I know," he said and then went on, "Michael, Michael of the morning . . ."

I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? Then I
smiled to myself, every guy in the outfit knew about me. Hadn't I taught the prayer to anybody who would listen? Why now and
then, they even referred to me as St. Michael.

Neither of us spoke for a time and then he broke the silence. "We are going to have some trouble up ahead."

He must have been in fine physical shape for he was breathing so lightly I couldn't see his breath. Mine poured out in great
clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself, well with the Commies all around us, that is no
great revelation.

Snow began to fall in great thick globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out. And I was marching in a
white fog of wet sticky particles. My companion disappeared.

"Michael," I shouted in sudden alarm.

I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, "This will stop shortly."

His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard
shining disc. I looked back for the rest of the patrol, there was no one in sight. We lost them in that heavy fall of snow. I looked
ahead as we came over a little rise.

Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them. Seven Commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats.
Only there wasn't anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us.

"Down Michael," I screamed and hit the frozen earth.

I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing.

Mom, those guys couldn't have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits.

But there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the
bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake.

At least, that was what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine. I felt a sudden flame in
my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit, now I know.
I remember feeling strong arms about me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one
last look. I was dying. Maybe I was even dead, I remember thinking, well this is not so bad.

Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock. But it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again only this time his
face was shining with a terrible splendor.

As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger; his arms stretched out
wide, maybe it was the snow falling again, but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an Angel. In his hand was a
sword. A sword that flashed with a million lights.

Well, that is the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me. I do not know how much time had
passed. Now and then I had but a moment's rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead.

"Where is Michael," I asked.

I saw them look at one another. "Where's who?" asked one.

"Michael, Michael that big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us."

"Kid," said the sergeant, "You weren't walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far
out. I was just going to call you in when you disappeared in the snow."

He looked at me, curiously. "How did you do it kid?"

"How'd I do what?" I asked half angry despite my wound. "This marine named Michael and I were just . . ."

"Son," said the sergeant kindly, "I picked this outfit myself and there just ain't another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in
it."

He paused for a minute, "Just how did you do it kid? We heard shots. There hasn't been a shot fired from your rifle. And
there isn't a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there."

I didn't say anything, what could I say? I could only look open-mouthed with amazement.

It was then the sergeant spoke again, "Kid," he said gently, "everyone of those seven Commies was killed by a sword
stroke."

That is all I can tell you Mom. As I say, it may have been the sun in my eyes, it may have been the cold or the pain. But that
is what happened.

Love, Michael

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