Around my wrist hangs a faded plastic hospital bracelet. It used to be purple, then it was pink. Now it is pretty much white. Time, wear, sweat and soap have eroded the color from what once identified me as BJ's father at the hospital.

Before I moved to Tulsa, a friend asked me (with disdain in his voice) how much longer I was going to keep wearing it. "Until it falls off," was my answer. I could tell he thought it was pathetic. I couldn't really blame him. It kind of seems like I'm living in the past from certain points of view.

This week, I have been asked twice about the strap. First by a 6 year old young lady at whose house I was having dinner (Emily). Second by a man of some rank with the National Guard (Rick).

Though I keep it on to remind me of a 'faith so great that death was no big deal, ' I am still caught off guard when people ask me about it. I need to be prepared.

Emily is an extremely intelligent young lady who uses big words for her young age. She reminds me so much of BJ. He did the same thing. People used to laugh when they met him for the first time, as it is disarming to have one so young, come across so mature.

I explained to her that it was my "parent i.d. bracelet" from when my son had been in the hospital. That seemed to satisfy her, so we moved on to other topics.

Tonight, I was invited to dinner with some co-workers. Afterwards, the women were getting their hair cut, and so my friend Walker and I began to walk a bit. We were in a mall, so we just kind of did that whole "mall walker" thing. You know, you've seen them, or perhaps been run over by one of them.

As we neared one end where a huge store had gone out of business, Walker said, "Let's go into this recruiting office."

I was thinking, "What in the world for?"

I followed him in. Before us stood three fatigue clad National Guard recruiters. Walker began to talk to them. We both introduced ourselves. They wondered if we were there to "re-enlist." We laughed a bit. I was very uncomfortable. I don't do things like this. Just walk up to random people for no apparent reason. I could not wait to leave.

Then the one in charge asked me about the raggedy white plastic band. I gave a brief scenario to him without much detail... like I had with Emily. He was not satisfied. I gave more information, to which he responded, "Follow me."

As we walked down a hall that seemed much longer than it was, I felt a bit like I was being ushered to the principal's office. We arrived at the last door, and entered. He walked around his large wooden desk and pointed to his family picture. Specifically to his 6 year old son, Tyler.

He began to share with me how Tyler had recently been diagnosed with Leukemia. Suddenly, I felt like I'd known him my whole life, and was obscenely comfortable (to my previous way of thinking).

For the next 10 or 15 minutes we began to talk about our sons. Tyler is in remission. Rick wants to believe he is healed. I pray that would be so. He began to try to talk about faith, and the whole issue parents go through when their child is afflicted. I knew exactly how he felt.

I began to share BJ's story with him. I told him what he had said to me in the emergency room... I know you remember, but for any new reader's, "Dad, I know your scared. I believe the Lord is going to deliver me through this, but if he doesn't I'm going to be with him, and that's okay with me."

Rick shook his head. I went on to tell him how BJ had shared with his friends that he was called by God to be a martyr, to lay his life down for Christ. Rick shook his head more. I equated BJ's sacrifice to those of our military acquaintances who had lost their lives in the line of duty, and relayed that at 15 his faith was so deep and strong that he was willing to lay it all down because he knew that it was gain.

We talked more about Tyler. We talked about his nickname and how he resisted it. He did not want to be called by that nickname, because it reminded him of a neighbor girl. I told him how BJ had been the same way. That at around Tyler's age, BJ had announced to all listeners that his name was Brent, and he would no longer be known by BJ. Then a few years later, he rescinded this statement, and chose to be known once again by BJ. Rick's sons nickname is TJ.

Rick had 3 swords hanging in his office. I told him about BJ's rite of passage, and how we had given him the sword he had longed for, and how that was a symbol of his passing into manhood.

At every turn, I tried to point him to Christ. When those moments are over, I can always think of 100 things I could have said, or perhaps said differently. None of that matters. What matters is that Rick is seeking, and God directed a man, who recently arrived from Indiana, who cannot seem to let go of a silly sentimental hospital bracelet to share with a man's man, who was twice his size.

Rick and I walked out to rejoin the others. Walker told the men we were missionaries who took students to the mission field, and asked if we could pray for them. We did, then said our goodbyes.

Walker began to relay to me how the Lord had urged him to head into the recruiting office. He didn't know what the purpose would be, but followed with a heartbeat of obedience. I thanked him for that, as I relayed my fears and discomfort in walking into that situation. I started to tell him why God had led us there, but he already knew. The other two recruiter's had filled him in.

The Lord has renewed me! I give Him praise for this opportunity!

brent (dad)