The unbreakable bond

"Urgent...Call me. ASAP. Not a scam, spam or joke." This was the message we received Sunday morning, sent to our Top Three, a bunch of retired senior noncommissioned officers who 20 years ago formed an unbreakable bond while working in the intel division at Shaw AFB, SC. All of us were in the top three of the enlisted tier; some were active duty at the time, some retired and working as contractors, but we all had one thing in common: our love for the military and each other. What started as an official group quickly morphed into something more intimate, having frequent get togethers at each others' homes as one member would announce "Top three at so and so's house this weekend!" These much anticipated gatherings involved a lot of food (usually ribs or brisket BBQ'd by Bill), beer, and fellowship, punctuated of course by comical hijinks (usually Tim, Kevin, and Liz). Some of my best memories are from these top three parties, and are etched into my brain forever. To an outsider these "parties" looked like any other party, but they were oh so much more; there was an unspoken promise to members to always be there for each other and their families, no matter what. Despite living separate lives miles apart and rarely seeing each other, if at all, that bond has persisted to this day.

As we get older, the group has dwindled as first one, then another, dies. We've lost Tim, Ronshella, and Steve. Someone notifies those of us remaining via a Facebook message to the group, and we gather to say farewell to yet another brother or sister. If we are lucky we have one final top three with someone who we know won't be around much longer, but usually the announcement of a death comes as a jolting shock. Such was the message on Sunday: one of our brothers was killed in a motorcycle accident the night before, leaving a wife of nearly 30 years, a son, daughter, and a brand new grandson. 

For those who have never served in the military, especially in the top enlisted tier, the camaraderie and closeness we share is incomprehensible. Our connection transcends distance, time, and station in life; it follows us to the grave, but does it stop there? Eating my breakfast in silence and prayer, memories flooded in about him--his love of life, spontaneity, loyalty, hilarious antics, dedication to the military and the United States, and most of all, his devotion and love for his family. Then it hits me...did he know Jesus? Will he be there when my time comes to leave this earth? Did I ever share my faith with him, or pray for him, or for the others, people I claim such a kinship? Am I doing all I can to carry that bond beyond the grave?

Sure, life is short, people get old, we die, and life goes on--on earth, anyway. But what about eternal life? Do I share the joy of my salvation with those I love and cherish, or do I hide my light under the proverbial bushel basket? When the message goes out to our group informing them I have died, what will their thoughts be? Will they be assured I am in heaven? Will they even remember me as a Christian, as one who was passionate about her love for Jesus? When they try to remember my face, will it be the image of someone who lived for Jesus or for the world? Will it shock them that I was a Christian?

Urgent...pray now. ASAP. 

Kevin...I will always remember you for your loyalty, professionalism, patriotism, your ability to make everyone laugh, your crazy antics, but most of all for your love and devotion for your family. Ride on, Kevin, ride on.