The Purple Heart – A Prayer sure as Jesus: A True Story of May 29th 2026

“The Purple Heart for ALL combat wounds…that’s all I want.”

He paced his small property and must have asked God it for again and a thousand times before. Daily he sent up prayers for years between writing and contacting congressmen, senators, dignitaries – anyone who might help received a letter or handshake from him. Thousands had signed on it – the Purple Heart for severe combat incurred PTSD would cause less to take their own lives in the knowledge that America is with them in the darkest hours. People believed it. The movement had grown in six years from one man to thousands, yet still nothing real had happened until he received a call back from a senator’s office in Washington DC. He met the senator in person – and he paced his property in the middle of nowhere praying fervently to the God he believed in.

“The Purple Heart for ALL combat wounds…God, you know it better than I.”

Yet, after a few days nothing happened. The cause was once again relegated to a list, and he could feel it getting buried – again. It happened twice a year ago. Two congressional assistants called him, and it never went anywhere. He tried to call them back and it just died. He hit a bureaucratic brick wall, and it died.  

But now he had all the reasons in the world to be excited. This was a senate majority leader’s assistant this time, and surely, they would make time to consider the Purple Heart. They had everything they needed – and all he needed was for it to be placed in the hands of the President. The Purple Heart began with the first American President George Washington, and therefore its meaning could be honored however the current President wished. It was the only medal in the US military that had the prerogative of the President…if only he could see it. If only the President knew about the movement maybe it could happen. But how? All the representatives he contacted eventually stonewalled him, and the felt in his heart it would happen again. How could he get it in the hands of the President if no one helped him? He was excited to get a call always, but he felt in his heart what he felt before: no one really cared to help him. Would the senator be different this time? Was it even worth getting excited?

Then he thought of the reasons it all came about. Two marines he served with – one was a friend – died of suicide. Then there were a few more, then it was a friend of friends who committed suicide. Then it was all the lost families left to pick up the pieces. The families who asked themselves impossible questions like “what did I do wrong? What if I helped more…what if I did more…what if…what if…”

He looked himself in the mirror six years earlier and had enough. He HAD to do something. He believed his oath to America demanded it. Too many were dying and no one knew what to do until he had the idea: the Purple Heart. There was a study done at Dusquene University in 2022 of ten-thousand combat veterans and it was found that veterans who received a Purple Heart were 50% less likely to commit suicide than those who did not. 50%. The reasons were worth it and the mission was clear: if the Purple Heart could be honored for ALL combat wounds including severe combat-incurred PTSD, then less would take their own lives in the knowledge that America validated their daily, living sacrifice with Americas most sacred medal. Their living legacy – their lifelong commitment to America is THAT important. Yes. It would most definitely save lives because unlike most other forms of stress disorders, combat PTSD never goes away. 

For the old marine pacing in his yard, it was unacceptable to do nothing. Even if it wasn’t a perfect solution, it was at least a solution to some. The veterans who committed suicide didn’t need more services, they didn’t need more money, they didn’t need better counselors, nor better physicians, better facilities, or better hospitals. No. None of these things stopped the suicides of his friends. But maybe, just maybe honoring them for their daily, living sacrifice to their nation and loved ones would have preserved them. And even if it didn’t, how much more would it mean for the families left behind to receive recognition for the one they lost? What would it mean to America? All of it was in the crowded mind that was frantically sending prayers to heaven. All of it was simple, yet even the simplest thing was difficult: if only he could get 3 minutes, just 3 minutes with the President of the United States…if only…if only…

He was praying so much he was getting a headache. It happened plenty of times before. He finally stopped pacing and sat down on a green bed of clovers in a yard that needed to be trimmed. He had been too busy to keep up his yardwork, and it really showed. His lawn was like his mind – crowded with ugly things and beautiful things. Packed with colorful things and bland everyday things. He just sat there and tried to clear his mind. After a few minutes he thought of nothing – and nothing felt good. The prayers stopped and he thought about when he was a child. When was the last time he really felt joy?

He couldn’t believe it. He blinked hard twice – ten times and directly in front of his knees were two four-leaf clovers. Two. He hadn’t found even one since he was ten and there were two right in front of him in a random place where he plopped down exhausted. It was not for lack of looking either. He was always looking at the ground and finding things, but over thirty years had passed, and he never saw four-leaf clovers. He picked both and felt real joy. Then he got up fast and was about to go press them in a book and had a thought: ‘What if I could find another? Another one and I would have three – Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Then for certain I would know God is in this.’ Certainly, with one more he could trust God was in charge and he wouldn’t have to worry.

Unreal. No. No way! He looked for five seconds, not even five and about eight inches from the first was another four-leaf clover! Another clover! Father, Son, Holy Ghost! Three four-leaf clovers!

Joy. Absolute joy! All the sudden he was a child again and he was giddy with all three in his old hand. Three! It was as if he had gone a lifetime without joy and felt it for the first time. He stumbled over his feet and couldn’t wait to get inside and show everyone. He looked down, looked up to make sure he didn’t collide with his flowers, his flagpole, his sleeping cat on the deck and whipped open the door. He had just opened his mouth when he looked down and saw it - there were only two in his hand. Where was the other one? Shoot! He must have dropped it. The joy abated. Then he went outside and looked. He looked and looked. For ten minutes, for thirty minutes he paced all over where he had been and nothing. It was like a needle in a haystack. Yes. The Joy abated. But at least he saw it! At least he had all three for a moment and no one could take that away. But three…what if they saw all three like he saw them. He looked for another ten minutes. It was as if it disappeared off the face of the earth. 

He went inside and carefully pressed them in a fat book. What a day it had been! Is that what joy feels like?

Then he went outside and sat down thinking of nothing. He gave up his search and that was ok. God was really in this mission for the Purple Heart – one day it would happen. That was enough for him, and he was grateful his mind could rest because, after all, God did not need his help. His God can do anything. He literally just saw it and experienced it…that was enough for him.

Wait. 

No. 

Get outta’ town! 

There, directly in front of him – just as he thought all these things was another four-leaf clover! Not the one he just lost, no, but a much bigger one right in front of his face. 

Joy! Absolute joy! The God he served replaced the lost four-leaf clover with a bigger, better one! He looked a whole lifetime and found none but spent a few hours in prayer and was given all three – again. He simply had to stare before he picked it. There was no way this wasn’t a sign. There was no way. It was like being hit thrice by lightening without the pain.

It would happen. By God, one day it will happen: the Purple Heart for ALL combat wounds. 

It was sure as Jesus and not thanks to a few four-leaf clovers. 

It was Joy. Absolute Joy. 

 

“To have faith is to believe in what you do not see…the reward of this faith is to see what you believe.”

-St. Augustine.