We were in recruit training on Parris Island in South Carolina. Recruit Cozart was the platoon's Protestant lay leader. He was a dark skinned country boy from Mississippi about 18 years old. His job was to advocate for us before God just before the lights went out.
In the beginning, I couldn't understand many of the words he said. Only Jesus, Lord, God, please, help us and thank you. Cozart prayed in earnest. Sometimes tears streamed down his face. Sometimes he beamed a smile like he was talking to his grandma who loved him more than anything in the whole world. He was not ashamed. He was always humble. When he prayed for us, his heart showed.
I didn't believe much in whoever he was talking to. But I came to believe in Cozart.
In the beginning, I couldn't understand many of the words he said. Only Jesus, Lord, God, please, help us and thank you. Cozart prayed in earnest. Sometimes tears streamed down his face. Sometimes he beamed a smile like he was talking to his grandma who loved him more than anything in the whole world. He was not ashamed. He was always humble. When he prayed for us, his heart showed.
I didn't believe much in whoever he was talking to. But I came to believe in Cozart.
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