November 2007 Monthly Letter

A Divine Appointment!

2007 has been an awesome year! Each weekend I have seen from 35-45 people pray to make personal decisions for Jesus Christl That's an average total of 1120 (40 x 28 Weekends.) Plus, the multitudes of men, women, and children whose lives are profoundly affected when given opportunities to apply God's Word. I know you have sensed God's Divine Timing in each letter.

The weekend after Veteran's Day was the samel God chose to honor Capt. Steve Moore, a Vietnam Veteran, in a healing way! Please read his heart wrenching testimony now and notice both the date when he wrote it and when he was in Vietnam. Then read the rest of this letter to see what God had in store for this physically and emotionally wounded Veteran on November 16-18, 2007.

The Holy Spirit entwined my life with Steve's as he applied God's Word. He knelt at a wooden cross and pounded four symbolic nails of forgiveness. I saw the Holy Spirit speak directly to his heart and apply some healing balm. The Spirit had enabled him to take some Giant Steps forward toward his "inner healing."

Remember Steve's final words "I hurt even to this day as those memories return to mv mind and heart." This day in November was a time God had prepared for him!

Steve pounded his nails into the cross ... then went to a wall .. and began to weep. God simply used me to provide a shoulder to cry on, arms to embrace him, and ears to listen to him talk throughout the whole Weekend about his hurts and pains of war. But Jesus was the One who provided the healing!

At the close of the Sunday service, Steve gave me a present. It was a small model of the "Duster"-the killing machine that literally turned everything in its way to dust! For me it was the perfect symbol of giving up of his past and a release of the deep pain that went with it. I treasure it because it represents what Jesus is abie and wiliing to do-turn a pained warrior into a soldier at Peace!

Finally, can you imagine how the Spirit was also working when we sang the old hymns "Nothing but the Blood of Jesus" and the words "My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' Blood and righteousness." Both of these songs are S.O.P. - Standard Operating Procedure during each Weekend. Both became Spirit Operating-on-the-heart-and-mind Procedure during this Weekend!

What do you think? Maybe UpBuilding Ministries should be called Divine Appointment Ministries' God certainly has blessed us with many of them!

Here is Steve's letter: "I just can't get the blood off my hands!"

The battle on 21 Aug 67 lasted well over 6 hours. It was easy to shoot and kill the enemy with my 40mm guns on the Duster or even with my M16 because they were some distance away. On this day though, the enemy got just a few feet in front of me. For a brief moment I looked into his eyes and saw his hatred, his fear, and his very soul and in a split second took his life with my bare hands. His blood covered me. Now the war became personal.

I lost six men that day and there were about 35 Marines killed. When possible, I would help the wounded by applying bandages and soon their blood would cover my hands. But I could not spend much time with them, after all, the enemy was still fighting hard and we needed to stop them. After we were able to finally defeat the enemy, we began to gather everyone up and make sure they were all accounted for. As I helped the wounded onto the Duster, their blood began to cover my uniform. Then I began to help retrieve the dead, picking them up ever so carefully, in sort of a reverent manner. They did not know how we picked them up, but we all felt it only right to respect them as best as we could. Now their blood began to cover me even more.

Finally we started to head back to Calu. I rode in the last Duster, wanting to make sure everyone made it back safely. The stench of combat was very heavy. The smell of hot oil from the barrels that were still smoldering, the smell of elephant grass that had been blasted away, the sweet smell of napalm that had been dropped by many jets and burned the countryside and anything that was on it. Exhaust from the hot engines covered the area along with the gunpowder from every kind of weapon fired. Bodies that had died early on in the battle began to smell of death already because of the hot sun.

Warm sticky blood covered my hands and my fingers began to stick together. Blood from the enemy mixed with my blood and the blood of my men. As I looked at my hands during the ride back to camp, my mind would revisit the battle scene. What part of the blood was that of the men whom I had just killed with my bare hands, what part was mine, what part was from the dead or wounded of my men? I kept moving my fingers and watched as the skin clung together. Oh how I wish I could erase the images in my head but they were engraved there now forever.

We arrived at camp and loaded the wounded and dead unto the waiting choppers. We watched them for as long as we could while they disappeared into the now dark sky. Then silence was upon us and it was deafening. My ears began ringing ever so loud from the constant firing of our guns and it would not go away.

My eyes looked at my hands one more time. They were bright red. Taking my canteen, I filled my helmet with the small amount of water that was left after the battle. Dipping my hands into the water, the blood began to loosen around my fingers but it would not come off. I reached down, grabbed a handful of sand and began to rub my hands together. The grit started to remove the blood but could not remove the color. My hands were red and I could not get rid of it.

My heart ached so much and there was no one to talk to about it. I dare not let my men see how I felt. After all, I needed them to be ready to follow me into the next battle. I could not show any fear, anger, or any emotion whatsoever. I forced myself to stay rock solid so that they would follow me into another battle without any hesitation.

Another battle came all to soon and once again I would become covered with new blood. I hurt even to this day as those memories return to my mind and heart. Copyright 5 Aug 03 Captain L. Steven Moore Vietnam 1967-1968