In 2010 I worked CIA special operations in Afghanistan.
Spent time with a US Navy Seal Team on a mountain top position that overlooked the Afghan/Pak border.
It was there I had a meeting with God.
In the dead of the Afghan winter this fighting position was a harsh place, barren and unforgiving . A cold rain came down sideways and at night, without a moon, you couldn’t see your hand if you put it at arm’s length in front of your face.
The first day in camp there was an unconfirmed report that bad guys had come into a friendly village overnight just down the mountain from the outpost. They took two young villagers at random, killed them, cut their heads off and, headed back into the night… carrying the heads in a sack. One of the men stopped as the killer team was about to disappear in the night, turned and told the villagers not to cooperate with the Americans on top of the hill.
That night lying in my sleeping bag I had the urge to pee. Happens you know. Got up, got dressed, put on my US military forehead lamp, picked up my gun and started the walk from my bed-down place up the hill inside the compound to the outside latrine.
Wind was howling, cold rain hurt when it hit my face. So dark it was as if there was no life outside the light’s small beam. Listening intently, finger on the trigger of my gun, I trudged slowly along, very wary of my lone exposure to the elements and to danger.
I did not appreciate at that moment for the camp dog to come up and nose my butt. Hard.
I jumped four feet, screaming.
Scared witless, I saw God.
And he was just shaking his head.
That’s a true story.