Til the Last Shot...

I find myself so humbled by these men and women...
May God's favor bear them forward.

It is Hard to Title These Posts

You just have to see this, then you will understand... but what do you call the experience of viewing this story?  I love words, but I have none...

The David of the Bible Was a Soldier

And a man after God's own heart.

He wrote and composed many songs about God.

Leonard Cohen wrote this song, 

and David and God are both in it.

But who better can perform it than 

Marine Cpl. Tim Donley, along with Musicorp,

and the Kansas City Symphony.

"Hallelujah"
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It’s not a cry you can hear at night
It’s not somebody who has seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah 

David knew the burdens of a Soldier, and so do these men.

Whistle Blower From the Veteran's Administration

Your average disabled American service member who has served in our most recent conflicts, and come home with health issues will tell you that the  Veteran's Administration does not act in a timely manner and appears to actively fight accurate assessment of health matters and disabilities that are directly related to their military service.  Now an individual, who worked for the VA until he quit because of ethical  concerns, has come forward, and is testifying to congress as to what he observed while working as a researcher for the V.A.  He is claiming that results that prove connections to health issues are buried, or ignored.  I believe him.  I find Military.com to be without bias, accurate, and factual in their reporting.  This article is worth reading.

Whistleblower: VA Hiding Veteran Health Data | Military.com

   

Wanted.. Kidney For a Soldier, This is an Important Post

My friend Shelle from Soldier's Angels posted this... Somewhere... God is tapping a shoulder... The Still Small Voice is urging.... Is it you?

 

About

WANTED: People with Type “O” Blood to Donate a Kidney to Soldier “A” --- Contact: aKidney4SoldierA@gmail.com

Description

WANTED:
People with Type “O” Blood to Donate a Kidney to Soldier “A”

Soldier “A”, a highly respected soldier over 2 decades of service to America, is in need of a kidney. He has Polycystic Kidney Disease and has been placed on the national donor waiting list, however this wait is over 5 years long and he will need a kidney in the near future.

Polycystic kidney disease (PKD) is an inherited disorder in which clusters of noncancerous, fluid-filled sacs (cysts) develop within the kidneys. The cysts vary in size and, as they accumulate more fluid, they can grow very large. Although kidneys usually are the most severely affected organs, polycystic kidney disease can cause cysts to develop elsewhere in the body, too. The disease causes a variety of serious complications.

For privacy issues, he does not wish to have his name known at this time. His family realizes the need to make this information public to assist in locating a potential donor, so this request is being made through the military community for help. His wife is a member of the milblog and national military support community.

Soldier “A” has a Bronze Star Medal, Meritorious Service Medal with Oak Leaf Cluster, Army Commendation Medal (three awards), Army Achievement Medal (two awards), the Iraq Campaign Medal and a Combat Action Badge.

He is doctoring at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota as this clinic ranks #1 for kidney disorders in the U.S. News & World Report Best Hospitals rankings. Mayo Clinic in Minnesota offers up-to-date diagnosis and treatment options for adults and children who have polycystic kidney disease. Mayo's Minnesota location has one of the world's largest groups of practicing nephrologists (kidney specialists), including a research group devoted to the study of polycystic kidney disease.

If you are interested in becoming a donor or want more information about the process, please contact aKidney4SoldierA@gmail.com

Sometimes My Heart Thinks Louder Than My Brain

I was sitting in Spring Barbecue in Katy, Texas when my husband told me he was deploying to Afghanistan. He was a colonel, an Army Reservist, and we had been married less than three years. You would have to understand we are older, and to find the man of your dreams at any time in life is really quite miraculous, but to find him at my age... is truly so. I was 56 years old when he left, and owned a closet full of evening wear, that I got to use often.  I wasn't allowed to dance when I was in high school, although my younger sisters were when they reached the same age.  That is one of the disadvantages of being the oldest in a family; your parents mellow as they raise children... after you are gone. When I met Randy, I had never danced with a man before, and my first dance with him was just as magical as I had imagined as a young girl that it would be.  We were at a reunion of the 95^th Division WWII veterans, and the band was playing a beautiful old song, The Tennessee Waltz, and we waltzed.  It was always pure delight for me to attend the military balls that Randy was frequently required to attend, and to dance with him.  Life can be a romance novel… even when you are old.  When any woman of any age finds that in a man, all times of separation between them, are unbearable for her.

 My husband had gently broached the news in the Spring Barbeque that I had known from before we married would eventually come.  "Cowgirls Don't Cry" began to play in the background, and as he broke the long dreaded news, tears began silently flowing from my eyes, as they never had before. They didn't stop their continuous stream the entire time we were there. I never made a sound, and I would smile each time the waitress asked with concern if we needed something, and nod "no." I could not, for the life of me, stop those tears. It was the most embarrassing meal I have ever publicly   suffered my exposed and raw emotions through. 

I knew as he tried to console me that day while I choked down my sandwich, it was going to be the hardest thing I had ever done.  The experience has lived up to my worst expectations and then some, but I struggle on, and I yearn for the day he finally comes home, or I get to go to where I can sleep in the same bed with him every night, no matter where he is.  I have always said I would live in a tent in the dessert, in a hole in the ground, or any other place just to be where he is.

 

We live on a small ranch within an hour of Houston, but when we first moved here, now almost five years  ago; Yahoo Maps could not locate our address. We really live in the country. Internet connection possibilities are limited, and a cell phone is only as good as the room you are standing in and the weather.  My husband and I both love the little ranch of forty two acres, and Austin County where it is located.  There is a pond, thirteen heavily wooded acres, an antique barn, and unbelievable wildlife.  My husband dubbed it Soldier's Heart Ranch, and two people have never been happier as we have endeavored to make it the home of our dreams.  Both of us are unpretentious people, and “expensive things” are not a requirement for “dream” achievement.  

We have also added three little cabins, and a “Barbie Barn,” along with many other furnishings we know to be soothing to the soul, like 1100 square feet of wrap around porch, and rocking chairs by the dozen.  We both count it a great honor to be able to share the tranquility and beauty of this place with others who serve and their families.  It is the people who live here in Austin County as well, that make it the special place it is.  We live between Bellville and Sealy, and there are not better people to be found. They are honest, hardworking, genuine, supportive of each other and the community as a whole, and as a rule, patriotic to the core.

 

I am a trained FRG leader, mature, self-reliant, and independent by nature.  Having supported many other Soldier families, I had told myself I was going to do this, and do it proud.  I had always felt great empathy as I watched other military families , including my daughter’s, and those observances have somewhat empowered me.  My Christian faith, friends, and family have been invaluable to my survival. I have now learned the struggles and sacrifices America's military families make every day first hand, and come close to complete collapse many times while attaining that knowledge.  There isn't enough training or anything else in the world, which will make the deployment of a loved one without strife, pain, and sacrifice.  However, even though those things are a given when a loved one serves, there has also been the acquisition of what my husband says the Army offers to anyone associated with it, if they will receive it.  He calls it by the acronym he assigned it, “SIP.”  That stands for Skills, Identity, and Purpose, and those things can be the very positive products of enduring the deployment of a loved one to a war zone half way around the world.

Click edit above to add content to this empty capsule.

Mostly because we were in the company of other Soldier families seeing their husbands and fathers off to war, and due to the fact that I was so numb with disbelief that it was actually happening, I held back tears at the airport.  Then I went home and lay in bed and cried for two weeks after I stood watching the plane until its dot finally disappeared on the horizon.  I ate nothing but Girl Scout Cookies.  I remember thinking I would never make it a year.  I remember too agonizing over the thought he would be gone that long, because even though I had known intellectually that it was coming, my heart had never gotten the message clearly.  My heart, as my beautiful oldest grand-daughter, Madie, once told me of her heart, “sometimes thinks louder than my brain."  I think she was seven at the time.

Eventually, the fact that I had seen many women, including my own daughter, do deployment, and do it well, called me from my bed and my cookies.   So I took up a mantra from my husband’s life long thinking, changed the gender to make it my own, and declared to myself "if the woman in front of me can do it, so can I."  Sure enough, I began to acquire SIP.

 
When my husband left for Afghanistan, it was to be a one year deployment, it has now been three years, and he isn't home yet. I have survived, I have grown, I have suffered, I have sacrificed, and I have cried, but most of all, I have loved.  I have become a richer, and even happier person, so proud to have worn the title “Army wife.” My colonel has been officially retired since last June, but the State Department has snagged him and his phenomenal talents up, so I am entering the fourth year of his consecutive deployment to the Middle East.  The Bible is full of promises about making it through hardships, and God is always a promise keeper. I will tell my own deployment story over the next month, because the Army little noted my husband leaving service after thirty years, sending him a Legion of Merit, on which his name is misspelled, in the mail, and later a certificate signed by President Obama in a manila envelope that was so wrinkled I had to iron it to make it presentable.  It arrived in the mail as well.  That just won’t do… and I am planning the celebration of his long and distinguished service at a party I will host on Memorial Day here at the ranch.  We will also be formally dedicating the ranch to the work we have started in support of our military and their families called Soldier’s Heart Ministry.

I will offer bits of the wisdom I have gained for the consideration of others in their own struggle, and I promise you, it is a struggle each and every day.  As always, I will with profound humility and gratitude, offer support to anyone who is currently serving, or who has served. You all have my deepest admiration and appreciation; you are the best among us.  Now since it is getting so late I give my best advice to anyone facing this "refining like gold” experience of deployment: keep your chin up, look around for someone else in need of support and give it to them, and work on your SIP!

A Call From a Soldier

I have a dear friend, I have been humbled and honored to hear the story of his service in the United States Army.  Courage, sacrifice,  and patriotism is defined in what this man and his family have given.  Several weeks ago he had to go for medical testing to verify a neck injury sustained when the vehicle he was riding in hit an IED and rolled.  The wait for those types of exams is always long.  My friend told me of a young Soldier who sat waiting beside him.  He reported that the young man was in obvious distress, his NCO called his cell phone demanding that he get back to the unit.  Those manning the desk in the waiting area made disparaging remarks suggesting the two men were trying to put something over on the Army, and get something they didn't deserve...  

My friend participated in 455 combat missions during two tours in Iraq.  Vehicles he was riding in were hit seven times by IEDs.  The Army has completely lost the record of his second deployment.  All that remains is the pictures he made to prove he ever served that second tour.  He bears the burden of proving his PTSD and TBI from the roll over and sustained mortar and rocket attacks.

How can this be?  He was required to contact those Soldiers who had been riding with him in the vehicle that day when it rolled.  He had to ask them to make "sworn statements" of the IED and roll over.  They of course, were under no obligation to oblige him.  He found that three of them were dead, having later sustained fatal casualties.  One Soldier with whom he had been very close, hung up on him when he called the first time, stating, "I don't want to talk about that."  He suffers from PTSD, and lost his family due to his military service, and his ex-wife used his PTSD diagnosis to deny him visitation rights to his daughters.  Of course he still must provide child support. 

My friend suffers from PTSD, the Army diagnosed him as having this condition, yet they sent him on this mission to provide proof of his service, since somehow they have failed to maintain his record...  I can't think about this too much... I too experience dismay...

He called me today, having received his rating for the PTSD disorder, his frustration was clear.  They advised that if he wished to submit more information, they would reconsider.  He had just fulfilled the list they supplied of what documentation they required.  He made the statement, "I need help."  I spent some time in prayer for him and the needs of his family.  Later I went to my email and found a message from a friend that mentioned that she had a friend who advocated through the VA for Soldiers.  We as a nation may not know how to treat our patriots, but the Living God does.  As I constantly observe, God loves and cares for Soldiers in a special way.  I sent the Soldier my friend's email to encourage him, and sent her a reply asking for the contact information.  I will pass it on to him after I contact the advocate first to tell her what an outstanding Soldier will be contacting her for help with the VA.

The Soldier had told me that as he had waited that day for the medical testing and sat next to the young Soldier he had reached out to him as the two Soldiers manning the desk derided both of them and encouraged him.  When he did so, a single tear had slid down the young man's  cheek.  I don't know the young Soldier's name, but tonight where ever he is, I wish him to know I am thankful for his service, and he has my deep admiration.

To the two Soldiers who were manning the desk that day, you aren't worthy of the uniform... and you don't have the standing in this world to tie the boots of the men you ridiculed that day, and I yearn to have the opportunity to express my contempt for you face to face...   There is only one excuse for your behavior, lack of leadership, for you would have never gone there if you were serving under my husband.  You would have known better, and been sure of the consequences should your behavior be reported.  Ft. Polk, Louisiana is in need of leadership.  I contacted them to report this incident when I heard of it, never heard a word.  Apparently, command at that installation allows such behavior.

To every frustrated Veteran, especially those from the Viet Nam era who are dying daily from the Agent Orange exposure, thank you for your service. 

A Call From A Soldier

I received a call from a Soldier today.

He was struggling and found himself again in dismay.

A sadness swept over me, so many times for these I have made defense,

Sometimes the way we treat our Soldiers just doesn’t make sense.

We ask so much, take so much, then profess great care.

But when it comes down to it, the burden, they have to bear.

We make them wade through paperwork and bureaucracy without end.

We appoint them an advocate, but really for themselves they must fend.

“Jump through this hoop, sign here, and go to that corner and stand.”

So many requirements and so many demands.

Everyone knows that to these valiant warriors we all owe,

How is it then that in the end we become the foe?

When they reach the brink of what they can shoulder,

They tend to give up, walk away, as their resentments begin to smolder.

I wonder often if the system is not of such a design,

As to so discourage a Soldier that they give up in time.

When an enemy stands sinister and dark at the door,

The whole world looks to these men and women and implores.

Leadership with lofty words sends them out,

Their mission, the enemies of freedom to rout.

Of all the debts that the people of a nation share,

Is there one like we owe to these men and women that can compare?

I received a call from a man who used to be a Soldier today,

He was struggling and again found himself in dismay.

Dedicated to Jared Campbell and all those who have so nobly served with him, may this nation always remember and respect what they have given.  March 2011.