Before I go any further, let me admit that the essence of a man can never be fully understood or grasped by anyone other than those who are closest to him. That is sacred ground for his wife and children, and those select few he chooses to let in. It should never be purported to be understood by someone who doesn’t truly know him. But one thing was clear from today’s memorial service for Chris. The essence of who he was as a man was evident to anyone who ever met him, even if it was just for a moment.
One day last year, I had the honor and privilege of seeing that essence up close. I had the chance to spend 20 minutes with Chris Kyle. No cameras were around (besides my phone). No press was recording the conversation. No one else even knew about it. But during that brief conversation, it was clear that Chris had vitality, humility, and security in his spirit. When you live the kind of life Chris did (and I’m not talking about what he did for a living); when you are the kind of man that Chris was, it permeates every aspect of your life, every conversation you have. It’s clear to anyone and everyone just what kind of man you are. Even if he only spends 20 minutes with you. That’s what I had. 20 minutes.
After he had spoken at our church one weekend, I was asked to walk with him out to his truck. And when I shook his hand, something happened that completely caught me off guard. Chris found out that I had served in the Marine Corps.
Immediately, that contagious, mischievous smile so many talked about today worked its way across his face. There was a squint of his eyes. He winked. And then he said four words I never dreamed of hearing from a hero of Chris’ caliber (pun intended). He shook my hand (again) and said, “Thank you for serving.”
Now, at this point, let me make something very clear. Yes, I served in the Marine Corps. But I was in the Corps during peacetime. I trained. I prepared. I trained some more. I spent time on the range and perfected my craft. But I never went to war. It’s one of the biggest regrets of my life (not that I wish we were at war, but any Marine will tell you that’s what they are there for…to go to war.) I would in no way say my time in the Marine Corps came anywhere close to what the men and women of our Armed Forces today are facing. I certainly wouldn’t begin to put my service on the level of Chris Kyle’s. But he did. In his mind, serving is serving.
When he thanked me, my response was something to the effect of, “Are you &^$%# kidding me?!” Another smile. Then he put his arm on my shoulder and said, “Look, I’m serious. You and I are no different. I was just in a different place at a different time with different opportunities.” Like I said. Unexpected.
Chris Kyle was a lot of things to a lot of people. There’s no way anyone can put into words all that he meant to them. Me? I think I can boil it down to one word. Hero. Not in the sense of a man who rushed into a hail of bullets to rescue someone (though Chris did that). Not in the sense that his family understands it (no one else will ever know that depth of Chris). Not in the sense that this nation sees his heroism. Though all of that is true about Chris.
Chris Kyle is a hero to me because during that 20 minute conversation, it was clear that he allowed Jesus to shine through him to other people. He truly cared for and valued everyone he ever met. Even if it was just for 20 minutes.
There was no pretense to Chris Kyle. There was no ‘personality’ to Chris Kyle. There was only the person of Chris Kyle…the kind of person who is genuine, real, dedicated. The kind of person that has the sense of security and self-assuredness that are only found in a relationship with Jesus Christ.
And for that, I can truly say "Thank you, Chris Kyle…"
