There are a few circumstances in life that can radically change you. One of those is becoming a member of the U.S. Armed Forces. My grandfather, Ray Carter Davis, did it by choice. My great-uncle, Carroll Anthony, did it by choice. Many men of my father's generation had the choice made for them. Regardless of whether military service was volunteered for or not, it truly alters you forever.
For my grandfather, it cost him an eardrum and other physical issues for the rest of his life. I cannot fathom the experiences he endured. I cannot because he never spoke of it. It cost my great-uncle his life. It cost my grandfather his brother and, as a result of that loss, pain and guilt the rest of his life.
Yes, some people lose their lives. Some lose body parts or body functions. Some bear invisible wounds, such as brain injuries and PTSD. Some come away physically and psychologically unscathed. But no one, NO. ONE. comes away unchanged.
Military service, whether in a war zone or on peacekeeping missions, whether at home or abroad, whether active or reserve, changes you. Maybe it gives you discipline you lacked as a youth. Maybe it makes you stronger or more confident in ways you could never imagine. Maybe it makes you jaded and skeptical. Maybe it instills a pride in humanity. Maybe it makes you confused or angry. But it irreversibly alters you. That doesn't have to be a negative thing.
To every person who has served and still has breath, THANK YOU. You have my unending gratitude and unwavering support. I do not take for granted what you have offered, given, or lost. For every person who has lost their life in service of this nation, of me and my family, THANK YOU.
And to all the family members, thank you for all that you sacrifice as well.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
The Handwriting is on the...truck?
As I was riding in the car with my husband and son today on the way home from Milwaukee, we saw a tractor trailer with "Ps 46:10" written by finger in the grime of the trailer. My husband actually was the one who noticed it and asked me what the scripture was that had been referenced. Not being a biblical scholar and knowing book, chapter, and verses, I told him I was unsure. (My guess was something about washing or cleaning, you know, in the "Wash Me" sense that is usually on dirty vehicles.) I was wrong.
Funny thing is, we've been talking a lot in our little family lately about faith and believing in God. My husband has doubts and questions. I do not in any way blame or fault or not accept and love him because of these questions. I actually love his deliberateness in wanting to be certain of something as big as faith instead of giving lip service to it. How can you believe in something you cannot physically see or feel? How do you know? I want proof, evidence. I want God to show Himself. And of course, there's the ever-present, "I've done really well in my life without God. I just don't see the need for Him." We've also talked a lot about voids that seem to go unreconciled, regardless of success in career, wonderful family, or sufficient funds. That empty place that *could* be deep calling unto deep? That part of discontent that nothing material or earthly can fill because maybe, just maybe, we as humans really are made to be in a very real communion and relationship with God.
I looked up the scripture tonight. I know it's a common one. But based on our recent conversations, I feel like God was using the old "handwriting on the wall" method again. Except this time, it wasn't impending doom. It wasn't "you have been measured and found wanting." It was an answer to the question. It was God showing Himself and making the move. It was physical proof to a human asking for a specific sign of evidence. It said, "Be still and know that I am God."
Two instructions. Be still. Know. Whether or not this penetrates or changes a heart is between one human and an almighty God. Maybe this is another seed or drop of water nourishing already planted seeds. Maybe it's enough. Maybe it's not. Yet. But God answered a prayer and a question. "How do I know?" "Why won't He prove and show Himself?"
Today, He did. On the back of a dirty semi.
To whomever God used to write that message, thank you for your obedience. It made a difference to me.
Funny thing is, we've been talking a lot in our little family lately about faith and believing in God. My husband has doubts and questions. I do not in any way blame or fault or not accept and love him because of these questions. I actually love his deliberateness in wanting to be certain of something as big as faith instead of giving lip service to it. How can you believe in something you cannot physically see or feel? How do you know? I want proof, evidence. I want God to show Himself. And of course, there's the ever-present, "I've done really well in my life without God. I just don't see the need for Him." We've also talked a lot about voids that seem to go unreconciled, regardless of success in career, wonderful family, or sufficient funds. That empty place that *could* be deep calling unto deep? That part of discontent that nothing material or earthly can fill because maybe, just maybe, we as humans really are made to be in a very real communion and relationship with God.
I looked up the scripture tonight. I know it's a common one. But based on our recent conversations, I feel like God was using the old "handwriting on the wall" method again. Except this time, it wasn't impending doom. It wasn't "you have been measured and found wanting." It was an answer to the question. It was God showing Himself and making the move. It was physical proof to a human asking for a specific sign of evidence. It said, "Be still and know that I am God."
Two instructions. Be still. Know. Whether or not this penetrates or changes a heart is between one human and an almighty God. Maybe this is another seed or drop of water nourishing already planted seeds. Maybe it's enough. Maybe it's not. Yet. But God answered a prayer and a question. "How do I know?" "Why won't He prove and show Himself?"
Today, He did. On the back of a dirty semi.
To whomever God used to write that message, thank you for your obedience. It made a difference to me.
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