Monthly Archives: November 2015

My brother, M, turns 42 today, but he will celebrate his day deployed to a country half a world away, defending our freedom – the only job he has in his entire life wanted to do. From the time he was a very small child, M would tell people that he was going to be a soldier, and he enlisted in the Air Force directly out of our senior year in high school to become an USAF cop. Twenty three years and lifetimes later he is an expert in his field, requested by name for his past two duty stations, and one of the best men I know.

When my mother welcomed her infant son those four decades ago, she was determined that her son would never touch a gun. (Somewhat ironic considering that she had married a man who intentionally got himself tossed out of Virginia Tech with the sole purpose of going to Vietnam. Hmmh…) Then when M was less than 18- months old, sitting in his highchair while eating his lunch, he chewed his toast into the shape of a gun and pretended to shoot our mother with it. I guess you could say he was destined for his career path. Continue reading →

So, today was a glorious blue-sky, 80 degrees, Phoenix Autumn day, and I couldn’t help myself. I just had to run. Now, here’s the deal: you CANNOT tell my mother. I’m not afraid anymore of much this world holds (Not afraid?,  you ask. Hold that thought.), but I still have a Southern girl’s healthy respect for her mama. Any girl who claims a Southern heritage but denies that her mama scares her just a bit is lying about one of those two things; don’t trust her as far as you can throw her.

Anyhow, moving along, this being my second run since falling so ill several months ago, it was slowwwww and not very far, but I did it. (Can you tell I’m quite pleased with myself? That’s what the bold type was for.) I wasn’t too far from home, when a flyer stapled to a telephone pole caught my eye, not because it was a bright color or fancy font but because it was about a lost puppy, and you know how I feel about dogs.   Then something else, something odd, made my eyes pop wide, and my feet almost jolted to a stop.

The puppy, a very sweet, fluffy little guy, was named “Simba.” Okay, now I’m all for people being allowed to name their animals (and children) pretty much anything they want, and having been a school nurse I have heard some super offbeat names. Continue reading →

I lie awake at night afraid to close my eyes. I’m an insomniac by nature, but now I have a reason. I know what I will see, what I will hear: the Bataclan at night with the explosions destroying the lives inside, or worse – the aftermath. So, instead I lie staring at the ceiling. Slowly, my chest starts to compress and I feel like I’m trying to breathe underwater. Enough!

I climb out of bed trying not to disturb the blanket of dogs surrounding me – only one of them is mine. The rest are a normal fixture here with my parents, but mostly they’re a comfort on night like this. I smile at them as they snore. Jug lifts his head, decides he should follow. Then we head for the kitchen. In my “real” life, this is when I’d tie on my running shoes and head out the door, but that hasn’t been a possibility for months. So, instead, I head for the coffee maker. Continue reading →

If through our lives we are to bring glory to the One who created us, then does our death serve that same noble purpose? This question gnaws at the corners of my consciousness more and more frequently as people I know or know of depart this life. Some of these people I know well, some just tangentially through family or friends, but all leave me pondering that same question.

This week my friend from childhood, S, lost his brother which also means his mother and father lost their son, a wife her husband, and a child his father. I’d never met S’s brother, but the entire family has always lived out their amazing life of faith, an inspiring life of faith, really. But no matter how deep their faith canyon cuts or how fast their belief rapids run, I still can’t imagine the strength that must be needed to carry them through a situation that feels Salvador-Dali-surreal. I suppose that’s how we know human strength alone has long since fled, and God alone holds them all in His strong, capable arms. Continue reading →