Soldier Discovers His True Identity

“The smells, the taste. You’re listening to your guys. And everybody is trying to be a little jovial, but serious at the same time,” recalls Brad Munn. “Everybody knows this might be that day. Everybody knows.”

Army Staff Sergeant Brad Munn remembers when “That Day” came for a good friend of his. It was April 26th, 2006. Both were serving in Iraq when Brad got word his buddy had been killed by an IED while on a supply run.

“I did go to God. I sure did. Shaking my fist, saying, ‘He’s a good guy. Why him?’ says Brad. “Why’d you do that?”

Ever since he was a young boy growing up in Florence, South Carolina, Brad had one thought in mind, joining the military. “I think it was the structure, the uniformity. I loved America and I was like, you know, I need to do my part,” says Brad.

Those dreams led him to military school in 8th grade where he made a commitment to Christ. By the time he graduated in 1989, however, he’d discovered the party life, and his faith had faded. “I was a fence rider. I wanted the best of both worlds. Did I walk away? Yeah, I did. Did He leave me alone? No,” says Brad.

That summer he enlisted in the Army. His sights set on joining the rank of the elite. “And they said, ‘What do you want to do?’” says Brad. “I was like, ‘I want Airborne. I want Infantry, and I want to go now.”

“Why I became an Infantryman? Be able to jump out of planes, wear the jump wings,” says Brad. “I liked the badges and I like the, you know, maroon beret and being 82nd Airborne.” It also became his identity, yet, even as he relished his position and status, something was missing.

“On the outside, it appeared everything was going fine, and that’s the way it was, I didn’t let people in too, too far,” says Brad. “Oh, I was miserable, there was no satisfaction in my life.” So, after Brad received an honorable discharge four years later, he was lost. Bouncing between a couple law enforcement jobs and a stint in the Coast Guard he went through multiple marriages that resulted in two children. Brad was also in and out of the church.

“Thinking, you know, that’s gonna bring some peace. It’s going to calm me down. I’ll have to make changes then, but I never did, because I was trying to find my identity in other things,” says Brad. Brad says that wasn’t the only reason for keeping God distant.

“I couldn’t fight Him away. I wanted to and I tried to. I wrestled with Him often. I couldn’t let Him win because if He won, then that means I would have to surrender. No, I don’t surrender,” says Brad.

So, in 2005, Brad re-enlisted, hoping to regain his identity. Promoted to Staff Sergeant, he was stationed in Iraq where the constant threat of death gave him cause to reconsider his faith in God.

“Whenever I got off shift, if you will, I would go up on top of the roof,” says Brad. “I was like, ‘Alright God, I don’t know what you have planned. I don’t. Um, my plans are not doing too good. I know I signed up to be here, I got it, but I’m not getting it.’”

His “foxhole” faith was quickly shattered when an IED killed a good friend in April 2006, and Brad blamed God. “Why do you say you’re such a good God? You’re not such a good God for doing that,” says Brad.

A month later, Brad was sent back to the U.S. where he was medically discharged for an old injury and PTSD. And for the next 10 years he drank constantly, moving from one location to the next, trying and failing at college. Then, after a nearly fatal motorcycle accident that left him in a coma and with a long recovery, he started going to church.

“I asked God some real questions, the doubting questions, ‘Show me something,’” says Brad. “And, you know, He would let me know, ‘Hey, man, I’m here. I got you.’”
Even then, he still couldn’t let God into his life and heart. Then finally in January of 2015, something inside him broke.

“This particular day, there was something that was stirring inside of me, and I could not shake it,” says Brad. “I was literally brought to my knees, overwhelmed. And I-I said, ‘God, please help me here. I don’t know. I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying. Me, me, me, I, I, I.’ And He said, ‘Brad, it’s not about you, it’s all about Me.’ And I threw my arms up and I said, ‘Alright, I give it all to you. It’s yours. I can’t do this.’ I could breathe. I was truly free,” says Brad.

“He allowed me to see that relationship that I’d truly been yearning for this whole time. I was trying to find in people, places, persons, all these other things,” says Brad. “Whenever He was like, ‘I’m-I’m that relationship you have been looking for.’”

Brad was finally able to finish his college degree and then he graduated from seminary. Today he’s married to Dawn and pastors a church in rural South Carolina. “To anyone who has felt that there’s just no way out...been there,” says Brad. “You locked yourself into this little world. You won’t let anybody in. He’s still there.”