Taking Chance
Sunday afternoon, we walked into a video store to rent some movies. As Ron filled out the paperwork for a membership card, I began perusing the movies. It's been quite some time since we've rented movies and I was happy to see there were many new titles to chose from. When I came upon 'Taking Chance,'
I took it off the shelf and read the back of the box. It wouldn't be an easy movie to watch but I handed it to Ron as he joined me.
If you aren't familiar with the title, it's about a Marine officer who volunteers to accompany the body of a young marine who was killed in Iraq as he is returned home for his burial. The movie is riveting, and very emotional. Ron and I sat and watched it, and more often than not, tears streamed down our faces.
It is a movie which celebrates the spirit of Americans - their respect and admiration not only for a young marine, but for the officer who accompanied him on his final journey home.
Ron said he had wanted to see it but wanted to wait until Stephen was safely home. Still without giving anything away, the movie brought back the time in our lives when Stephen returned home from another deployment....9 days prior to the death of this young man in the province previously occupied by Stephen's unit. I remember how the violence picked up in the days following Stephen's return...and the prayers, both for Stephen's safe return and for those young Marines who had taken over.
As I mentioned, it is not an easy movie to watch - but because it is a true story the difficulty becomes a blessing as the viewer witnesses the respect and reverence given to the young Marine on his way home...and to the man who goes with him.
And it also brings home the memory of my friend Wendy's son who accompanied the body of his best friend home from Iraq 15 months ago. No, being a military mom isn't always easy - but it is a amazing to see the devotion and loyalty our children have toward their comrades. The heartache becomes a blessing as we see the values instilled in these men and women despite the personal cost.
My friend Nancy says this movie should be required viewing for all military families. Its' message is carried throughout the movie...and continues to hit home long after the DVD player is turned off. She also has a personal friend who has just been assigned as Chaplain at Dover AF base where returning heroes go after they have paid the ultimate price for freedom and before their final journey home. Please pray for Chaplain Sorensen as he assumes his new post and for all the heroes he receives...and the families who wait for them to return home one last time.
May God be with all who work at Dover Air Force base - who do their jobs daily not with obligation, but as a labor of love. And may He bless all those who bring our heroes to their final resting place, and the families they bring them to.
God bless our troops, and those who wait.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
With Mission Accomplished, We Begin Again.
At 7:45 last night, following the very last notes of Proud to be an American, the double doors opened, and in a cloud of dust, 160 American warriors marched into the packed event room. And with tears of joy, relief, and pride, Ron and I realized that the greatest blessing a military parent can experience was ours once again. Stephen had come home safely from the sands of a place far, far, away. Laurie had arrived here the night before and we were so thankful that while trying to make it through a program so intense, only God's will could have helped the Army's plan and had allowed her to be here at that moment. We let the tears of joy, pride, and relief fall; and whatever fear had been hiding in our hearts for the past year fell away with those tears. And as we observed a moment of silence for those who had given the ultimate sacrifice, I knew that but for the Grace of God, those prayers would have been for our soldier. We sang The National Anthem and the Army Song and then they were dismissed to their families. Ron and I started snapping pictures immediately as Stephen and Laurie, who was holding on to a slightly overwhelmed Kasey - made their way through the masses to find each other. And when they did, no amount of film could capture the love in that moment.
Eventually, we made our way outside, Stephen got his bags from the bus, and we made our way to where we had parked the pick-ups. Final hugs and kisses, and they piled into their truck, we into ours - and drove away in separate directions. Even as the distance grew between us, their happiness followed our truck like a sunbeam - even in the darkness of the evening hours.
Ron told me I had done well during the ceremony - meaning I had cried, but had maintained my composure. :) With his words, the floodgates opened. And I said. "the toys are all at home but the little boy will be missing" Of course, referring to Kasey.
When we got home, I hugged Ron and said, "well, it's just us two again, but we accomplished OUR mission too."
For ten months, one of the first sounds we heard in the morning was Kasey's little voice. Happy or grumpy, it was a sound we treasured. Do you remember those days back in October? The "honeymoon" period of the first few days of his settling in, the moments of trying to consoling Kasey's homesick little heart, the difficult moments in the morning when pre school didn't seem an acceptable option to him. I remember those "difficult" mornings when, after dropping Kasey at school, I prayed for strength and guidance on my way to work...knowing that Ron and I had a blessed (but awesome task) in front of us. And all the while askng God to remind me that this was a 3 year old boy - far from his mommy; and that his daddy was even further away - "getting the bad guys, grandma."
But the days rolled into weeks, and then months. And soon enough, it was Christmas and Kasey had both of his parents with him to celebrate the holiday. They had nearly two weeks together as a family. And, as Laurie and Stephen once again had to go their separate ways, they left with knowing our selling the house and moving into our on the road home was just ahead - and with us would be Kasey and we would all be waiting for Stephen when he arrived home.
And so, here we are. The first morning of our new life. Just how many journeys is a couple our age blessed enough to travel?
There will be other days with Kasey - times when we could be asked once again to be his guardians. Because the US Army is what it is. Unpredictable - but like no other.
And I smile now because I know that in a hotel not too far from here, a little family is getting to know each other again after so long apart. And the smile is also because we have had this wonderful gift from God - a mission He so graciously led us through.
At 7:45 last night, following the very last notes of Proud to be an American, the double doors opened, and in a cloud of dust, 160 American warriors marched into the packed event room. And with tears of joy, relief, and pride, Ron and I realized that the greatest blessing a military parent can experience was ours once again. Stephen had come home safely from the sands of a place far, far, away. Laurie had arrived here the night before and we were so thankful that while trying to make it through a program so intense, only God's will could have helped the Army's plan and had allowed her to be here at that moment. We let the tears of joy, pride, and relief fall; and whatever fear had been hiding in our hearts for the past year fell away with those tears. And as we observed a moment of silence for those who had given the ultimate sacrifice, I knew that but for the Grace of God, those prayers would have been for our soldier. We sang The National Anthem and the Army Song and then they were dismissed to their families. Ron and I started snapping pictures immediately as Stephen and Laurie, who was holding on to a slightly overwhelmed Kasey - made their way through the masses to find each other. And when they did, no amount of film could capture the love in that moment.
Eventually, we made our way outside, Stephen got his bags from the bus, and we made our way to where we had parked the pick-ups. Final hugs and kisses, and they piled into their truck, we into ours - and drove away in separate directions. Even as the distance grew between us, their happiness followed our truck like a sunbeam - even in the darkness of the evening hours.
Ron told me I had done well during the ceremony - meaning I had cried, but had maintained my composure. :) With his words, the floodgates opened. And I said. "the toys are all at home but the little boy will be missing" Of course, referring to Kasey.
When we got home, I hugged Ron and said, "well, it's just us two again, but we accomplished OUR mission too."
For ten months, one of the first sounds we heard in the morning was Kasey's little voice. Happy or grumpy, it was a sound we treasured. Do you remember those days back in October? The "honeymoon" period of the first few days of his settling in, the moments of trying to consoling Kasey's homesick little heart, the difficult moments in the morning when pre school didn't seem an acceptable option to him. I remember those "difficult" mornings when, after dropping Kasey at school, I prayed for strength and guidance on my way to work...knowing that Ron and I had a blessed (but awesome task) in front of us. And all the while askng God to remind me that this was a 3 year old boy - far from his mommy; and that his daddy was even further away - "getting the bad guys, grandma."
But the days rolled into weeks, and then months. And soon enough, it was Christmas and Kasey had both of his parents with him to celebrate the holiday. They had nearly two weeks together as a family. And, as Laurie and Stephen once again had to go their separate ways, they left with knowing our selling the house and moving into our on the road home was just ahead - and with us would be Kasey and we would all be waiting for Stephen when he arrived home.
And so, here we are. The first morning of our new life. Just how many journeys is a couple our age blessed enough to travel?
There will be other days with Kasey - times when we could be asked once again to be his guardians. Because the US Army is what it is. Unpredictable - but like no other.
And I smile now because I know that in a hotel not too far from here, a little family is getting to know each other again after so long apart. And the smile is also because we have had this wonderful gift from God - a mission He so graciously led us through.
My heart will always have a yellow ribbon tied around it for the men and women who are still deployed, or are looking at their orders to go to the mountains of Afghanistan or the sands of Iraq.
My last words to you this morning would be to say THANK YOU. For your prayers, your help, your encouragement along the way.
For your appreciation of what it has meant to Ron and me.
I ask you for one more prayer - of thanksgiving - that after this awesome and amazing year, God's grace has allowed me to remain...
A Two Star Mom.
My last words to you this morning would be to say THANK YOU. For your prayers, your help, your encouragement along the way.
For your appreciation of what it has meant to Ron and me.
I ask you for one more prayer - of thanksgiving - that after this awesome and amazing year, God's grace has allowed me to remain...
A Two Star Mom.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Do One Armed Hugs Count?
Well, if you read my other blog, you know that I had a mishap on Tuesday and my left arm is now in a cast from the elbow down to my top knuckles of my hand, compliments of a broken arm. One of these days I will have this tumor on my auditory canal removed so that my sense of balance returns to normal. Then, perhaps, I can walk and maintain solid footing. After all, if we are ever going to stand on that new fangled platform above the Grand Canyon good balance is important. Do you agree? :)
So, anyway, as I was lying on the gurney in the ER the other night, I said to Ron, "How am I ever going to give Stephen a normal hug when he gets home with this cast on my arm?" Ron said he thinks he will understand and he said he is sure that Stephen will do his best not to make mockery of my grace and ability to get into trouble (or a cast). At least for the first 2 minutes after we see him.
So, do you think my hug will do? I think I can squeeze the daylights out of him just as well with one arm, as opposed to two...don't you agree?
Yeah sure. But as long as he knows what my heart is saying with that hug, I think being a one armed mom for awhile is just fine.
God bless our troops - and those of us who wait.
Well, if you read my other blog, you know that I had a mishap on Tuesday and my left arm is now in a cast from the elbow down to my top knuckles of my hand, compliments of a broken arm. One of these days I will have this tumor on my auditory canal removed so that my sense of balance returns to normal. Then, perhaps, I can walk and maintain solid footing. After all, if we are ever going to stand on that new fangled platform above the Grand Canyon good balance is important. Do you agree? :)
So, anyway, as I was lying on the gurney in the ER the other night, I said to Ron, "How am I ever going to give Stephen a normal hug when he gets home with this cast on my arm?" Ron said he thinks he will understand and he said he is sure that Stephen will do his best not to make mockery of my grace and ability to get into trouble (or a cast). At least for the first 2 minutes after we see him.
So, do you think my hug will do? I think I can squeeze the daylights out of him just as well with one arm, as opposed to two...don't you agree?
Yeah sure. But as long as he knows what my heart is saying with that hug, I think being a one armed mom for awhile is just fine.
God bless our troops - and those of us who wait.
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