Trauma, Service, and the Quiet Work of Healing: A Veterans Day Reflection

A Moment That Changed Everything

On September 11, 2001, I was a fifteen-year-old sophomore in high school. I walked into class a few minutes late and noticed every student silent, eyes fixed on the television mounted at the front of the room. I stood beneath it, unaware of the weight of what I was seeing. When I looked up, I caught the moment the North Tower collapsed. Shocked, I found myself sinking into my front-row seat, mouth open, trying to understand if what I saw was real.

This was before social media. I had not heard the news. Slowly, the broadcaster began to explain the tragedy unfolding that morning. In an instant, the world changed.

A Call Toward Service

That moment shaped many lives, including my own. Twelve years later, at age twenty-seven, I enlisted in the United States Army. I had considered it for years and finally, with encouragement from my wife to “just go talk to someone,” I did.

I cannot say that 9/11 was the reason I joined, but I can say it influenced my desire to serve. I was moved by the ordinary people who ran toward danger when so many ran away. I think often of the words, “Here I am, send me.”

Viktor Frankl once wrote that suffering changes when it finds meaning. At the time, I did not know what meaning I was searching for, only that serving felt like a beginning.

Listening to the Wounds We Cannot See

Many of my closest friends served during the Global War on Terror. While I never deployed myself, I listened to their stories. I saw the weight they carried home. Their war did not end when they returned.

The American Psychological Association describes trauma as an emotional response to a terrible event, yet this simple explanation misses the deeper reality. Trauma affects the body, mind, and relationships. It can interrupt sleep, trust, and connection. The body remembers even when the mind cannot find the words.

I remember feeling helpless as I listened to my friend friends trusting me with their pain. I listened. I sat with them. Yet I had nothing to offer beyond, “Sucks bro.” Some laughed to keep the memories quiet. Some spoke through tears. Some stayed silent.

Carl Rogers once wrote, “When someone truly hears you without passing judgment, it feels good.” I learned that listening with care was often the greatest gift I could give.

Resilience, Real and Lived

In the military, we talked often about resilience. At times those conversations felt like another box to check. Yet beneath them was something of value.

Resilience is not about pushing through without feeling. It is about connection, community, and finding purpose again. I watched soldiers find strength in one another. I watched them support each other when the days felt too long or the memories too sharp.

A New Mission Takes Shape

For many who served during GWOT, life changed forever in one hour and forty-two minutes. Even for those like me who never deployed, that morning reshaped the direction of our lives.

Over time, I felt a call to serve in a new way. I wanted to offer something beyond empathy. I wanted to understand trauma and walk with those who continued fighting battles no one else could see.

This led me to pursue Clinical Mental Health Counseling. I wanted to help people hold their stories with dignity and care. Brené Brown once wrote, “Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing we will ever do.” I have seen that bravery in soldiers, veterans, and their families.

During this journey, the idea of serving those that served became stronger and stronger. Strength not defined by rank, medals, or a deployment history.

Strength to name the struggle.

Strength to ask for help.

Strength to lift up someone else.

Theodore Roosevelt said, “No one cares how much you know until they know how much you care.” This truth continues to guide me.

A Veterans Day Reflection

On this Veterans Day, we honor those who served. We honor those who stepped forward when the world shook. We honor those who returned, carrying memories that still echo.

Scripture reminds us that “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Not every wound is visible. Not every battle ends when the uniform comes off. Some battles continue quietly, within the mind and body. If that is your story, you are not alone. Healing is possible. The story is not over.

Today, take a moment to thank someone who served. Listen. Be present. Small acts of care often carry the greatest weight.

We remember those who ran toward the smoke and fire.

We remember those who never returned.

We remember those who are still fighting within.

We remember.

Always.

References

American Psychological Association. (2022). Trauma. https://www.apa.org/topics/trauma

Brown, B. (2010). The gifts of imperfection. Hazelden Publishing.

Frankl, V. E. (2006). Man’s search for meaning. Beacon Press. (Original work published 1946)

Rogers, C. R. (1961). On becoming a person. Houghton Mifflin.

van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.