The inspiring, unflinching true story of “blind” faith, as Major Scotty Smiley awakes in a hospital bed and realizes his world is permanently dark he must stretch his faith like never before. Courageous, heartfelt, and honest, Hope Unseen challenges readers to question their doubts, not their beliefs, and depend upon God no matter what. A nervous glance from a man in a parked car. Muted instincts from a soldier on patrol. Violent destruction followed by total darkness. Two weeks later, Scotty Smiley woke up in Walter Reed Army Medical Center, helpless . . . and blind. Blindness became Scotty’s journey of supreme testing. As he lay helpless in the hospital, Captain Smiley resented the theft of his dreams—becoming a CEO, a Delta Force operator, or a four-star general. With his wife Tiffany’s love and the support of his family and friends, Scotty was transformed—the injury only intensifying his indomitable spirit. Since the moment he jumped out of a hospital bed and forced his way through nurses and cords to take a simple shower, Captain Scotty Smiley has climbed Mount Rainier, won an ESPY as Best Outdoor Athlete, surfed, skydived, become a father, earned an MBA from Duke, taught leadership at West Point, commanded an army company, and won the MacArthur Leadership Award. Scotty and Tiffany Smiley have lived out a faith so real that it will inspire you to question your own doubts, push you to serve something bigger than yourself, and encourage you to cling to a Hope Unseen. "I have known Scotty Smiley for nearly ten years--since the beginning of his friendship with my son Edward at West Point. He was a role model for our family before his injury, and his impact on us has only grown since that day in Mosul. Scotty has an incredible story to tell and God is using him in a remarkable way. All of the Grahams look forward to reading and sharing Scotty's story with millions." --Franklin Graham "Scotty Smiley is an American Hero! Scotty and Tiffany have been an inspiration to the Duke Community, to Team USA Basketball, and to me personally. He shared his story with our Olympic Gold Medal- winning basketball team, and now he shares it with all of us to show how character ultimately wins." --Coach Mike Krzyzewski "Scotty Smiley's story is one all Americans should hear. It will inspire them in tough times and help them through some of the difficult challenges they face in life." --Senator Bob Dole Captain Scotty Smiley is the Army’s only active-duty blind officer. He lost the use of both eyes when a car bomber blew himself up in front of Scotty’s vehicle. A recipient of the bronze star and Purple Heart, he currently teaches the core course in leadership at West Point. Scotty and his wife Tiffany are the proud parents of two young children. Doug Crandall served in the Army for thirteen years, including the last five at West Point where he was an award-winning leadership teacher and later the Executive Officer to the Dean. Doug now lives in Richland, Washington, with his wife Stephanie and their children. HOPE UNSEEN CHAPTER 1 DEPENDENCE DAY In any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. The apostle Paul, in his letter to the Philippians (chapter 4, verse 12) No yellow snow!” was not a suggestion at Mount Rainier’s Camp Muir. The climbing guides issued it as an edict. “If you need to go, use the restroom over there—this snow doubles as a source of water at ten thousand feet. None of us wants to go redrinking yesterday’s grape Gatorade after it spends the night in your bladder.” Easy for them to say. “Over there” was no big deal when you could see. But for a blind guy? I might as well walk to Boise to take a pee; I had zero chance to make it two hundred meters. I had stuck a lot of unwanted things in my mouth during the last eight hundred or so days of darkness, so what was wrong with a tiny taste of lemon snow for a few people who could still see? The decision quickly became a dilemma. I follow rules. But to pee properly I needed help. I had been superexcited when the guide told our group that we would be waking up at eleven in preparation for the climb to the summit. It was just 9 P.M. Fourteen hours of sleep? Simply awesome. It was smart to allow us rest before we ascended the final four-thousand-plus vertical feet to the fifth-highest point in the continental United States. But my joy was soon turned to frustration: the guide explained that we would be arising at 11 P.M. Two hours? I don’t mess around with sleep patterns—even if my life now exists in a perpetual nighttime. By the time I decided that I could no longer hold it, the rest of the climbing team was knocked out. If I woke anyone up, I’d be robbing him of probably half his night’s rest. In a departure from my normal worldview, I became a utilitarian. The odds that someone would actually happen upon my urine were extremely low—the Mariners win