Step Three

Acceptance

It’s Veterans Day here in the U.S. I wasn’t planning on writing anything related to my time in the service, but it looks like God had other plans. The most important lesson I learned while serving was acceptance. Most of the time, I didn’t even realize I was practicing it. From being in Basic Training and getting yelled at or told to do things for no reason, to failing at something I wasn’t actually failing, acceptance became a quiet constant. Then came units where I had to accept and love others (the choosing to die for the person next to you type of love). To the acceptance of just being told what my job was going to be that day or week. Maybe it’s just how my mind works, or maybe it’s because I chose to enlist, but I naturally accepted those things and determined I was going to follow through on them.

There were two instances where I know I had to consciously choose acceptance.

The first was in a school where part of the training involved learning to resist interrogation. For half a day, I was standing in a box that was too small, with a bag over my head and loud sounds blaring overhead. The bag and cramped standing weren’t the hardest parts to accept—it was the sound. The base layer was the poem Boots by Rudyard Kipling. Then, over it, equally loud, were the sounds of tanks, machine gun fire, bombs, children crying, and babies screaming.

At first, it was overwhelming, and I started to panic. But I was determined not to quit, so I knew the only way was through it. I began isolating each sound, examining them one by one. The poem was just a poem—it was easy to disregard. The tanks, machine guns, and bombs reminded me of the fun training I’d done with those things, so they weren’t hard to accept. A child crying—well, I couldn’t do anything about it; there was no actual child, just a recording. Lastly, a baby screaming. Same thing—I’d heard babies screaming before, and there was nothing I could do, no real baby to help. Once I accepted each sound, I found peace. It still wasn’t comfortable standing cramped, but the situation no longer disturbed me.

The second instance was in Iraq. On my first patrol outside of the base, I was scanning for homemade bombs. We were told they were common and that they might be hidden in trash, freshly upturned earth, dead animals, behind guardrails, or near markers like stacked stones, among other places. As soon as we rolled out of the gate, I realized those indicators were everywhere. Each one could be a bomb. Just like before, I started to panic. After a minute, though, I remembered I had a job to do: documenting as a photographer and, more importantly, winning the hearts and minds of the local population. Somehow, I realized I couldn’t do either of those things if I was paralyzed by fear of every possibility. The only way to do my job was to accept that I was going to die. Once I accepted that, I was fine. I could do my job and stay alert without fear controlling me. By accepting the worst possible outcome, I could find peace, make smart decisions, and do what needed to be done.

These are extreme examples, but the principle is the same. Acceptance frees my mind to focus on what I choose, rather than what’s possible. It allows me to plan for the situation instead of spiraling into “what ifs.” Acceptance brings peace, letting me choose to act like Christ rather than react from my own fears. No matter the season of life, I can practice this. I can accept that my day isn’t going as planned and refuse to let it control me. I can accept that bad things happen and work through the pain in a healthy way. I can accept feeling like a failure and then honestly assess where I’m doing well and where I need growth.

My devotion today and yesterday’s sermon were both about this. The devotion was from Genesis 22, where God tested Abraham by telling him to offer his son as a sacrifice. At the last second, God sent an angel to stop him, then provided a ram for the offering. Abraham’s obedience led him to be the father of nations, with descendants as numerous as the stars.

The sermon was about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who were told to bow and worship the king or be burned alive. Their response? Daniel 3:16-18: “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” God not only protected them from the fire, but it was said that their clothes didn’t even smell of smoke.

Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” You were created for a purpose—to reflect Christ in heart and action to others. Acceptance of your situation allows you to set anxiety aside and embrace the path and strength of Christ.

So today I’m asking, what do I need to accept and let go of, so I can hold onto what Jesus is offering me?