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.

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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!

It Takes Strength

Sometimes  it is difficult to get a gift for a Soldier, I always think very hard about what to get mine.  For Christmas I got him a little canoe.  When he was a kid he would  go fishing with his dad in a little row boat, his dad has been gone many years now, but he still talks about fishing in that boat with his dad.  Now it is time for Valentine's and I decided that carefully  chosen words of admiration and love were fitting,  I wasn't going to share them with anyone but him, but when he read them, he felt they might speak to others as well... and so here for every Soldier, and everyone who loves a Soldier, words from my heart.  To my beloved, Happy Valentine's Day!

If

If there stood before me 1000 men,

Each of whose lives I had observed again and again.

If I had watched them closely at command,

Of Soldiers, equipment, and resources try to meet war’s great demands.

If I knew their lives, credentials, and previous work,

How they handled things, and I were privy to each little quirk.

If the fate of personal liberty, the freedom of us all,

Hung in the balance, and without the right leadership would forever fall.

If there would be before us, only one chance,

To meet in battle some terrible foe, and the art of war to dance.

If by the wisdom and expertise of only one man,

The defenses of our country would fail or stand.

If you, my love, stood among those men in their rows,

The one whom no other I have ever loved so.

If somehow it were my duty the right decision to deliver,

My mind could easily make the choice, but my heart would quiver.

If I knew the man I chose would never come home,

Could I give what it cost, the most valuable thing I own?

If in my decision, would the moral courage by which I have watched you live,

Empower me to do the right thing, and the sacrifice to give.

If as I considered all that lay in the balance, to me you would clearly state,

What your own choice would be and how you would face your fate.

If, as I know would happen, I knew who stood above the rest.

Could I, in selfishness, select the one who was second best?

If there stood before me 1000 men,

This I pray before God, that I never will know how it ends.

What the World Really Needs is More Vikings

Yet again this morning, I find that another young Danish Marine has fallen in Afghanistan. His name I cannot yet find, but I will know it when it is made public, and I will record it in order that I might remember it always. I have made friends with two young Danish Warriors, who are twins, on Facebook. They were born just ten days before my own twin boys. So immediately they drew my notice as they posted on military sites. Educated at the Naval Academy in the States, they are really quiet remarkable men. Daily they inspire me; the phrase “uncommon valor” comes to mind. Never do they fear or mince words for the sake of political correctness or at the cost of truth. The deeds of their daily lives are frankly recorded on Facebook in words and pictures which clinch my heart and soul, and with the two attributes that most readily identify extraordinary men, confidence in following the harder right at all cost, and humility before the Living God. Our world needs such men desperately.

I have always enjoyed history, the explorations of other countries, and coming to know the people who inhabit them. As I have followed the Sorensen men, I have learned much of their homeland, Denmark, and its’ people. My curiosity has been stirred not only by their lives, but by the words they quote of their political leaders and their royalty. It is in my own life rare to encounter young people of my country with such obvious loyalty and trust toward our government and leadership. When the citizens of a country, of any age, quote boldly their current leadership, with obvious assurance, it is indeed to be envied.

Because of my initial note of Denmark’s commitment to the War on Terror and its’ forthright recognition of the true extent of threat to the world, I first found current statistics concerning the fighting and support services which Denmark has committed. Thirty-eight Danish troops have been killed in Afghanistan since Denmark joined the Coalition in 2002, another suffered a heart attack and died, and sadly another committed suicide. War is such a painful endeavor, and extracts its’ price in many ways. Currently approximately 700 troops are serving in the NATO-led forces, most of them in Helmand Province. Of course at the end of any given day, those numbers can change due to another “ultimate sacrifice” for liberty.

As I have begun to research Denmark, the country, and its’ ancient culture and people, my fascination has grown. I’m not going to make it easy for the reader to glimpse this beautiful country and know of it history and virtues, other than producing magnificent sons and daughters, but hope to inspire in the reader their own curiosity for all things Denmark. I will say of Queen Margrethe II, what a stunning and wise woman at age 70, no wonder the Sorensens admire and respect her so. Instead, I will offer to you a link to Denmark’s official web site: http://www.denmark.dk/en/Denmark.htmu

The news reported that the Soldier who was mortally wounded, was on patrol Sunday, four miles northeast of the town of Gereshk, in Helmand Province, when he fell to the “cowards weapon,” to quote Buzzy, an IED. Evacuated by helicopter he was declared dead upon arrival at the field hospital in Camp Bastion. I can assure the reader, valiant efforts were made to save the man. This morning as I read the notice posted by Buzzy, my heart clinched once again in my own pain at the loss of this young man, and the knowledge that in reality, he had stood between me and mine and a vicious and soulless enemy until the end. What a debt we owe these men and women, how diligently we must attempt restitution, and so I offered to Buzzy and Rolfe, their countrymen, and the Fallen Warrior’s family, words from the Father, and the prayers of my heart before the Lord. I have copied and pasted below those words to share with a larger audience in order to do what I can to pay tribute to the Viking Warriors whose Nation Anthem title translates into English, “There is a Lovely Land.” Those words follow:

A friend recently posted a verse I am very familiar with, but had not read in a while. It reminded me that even in my deepest despair, God is extending "lovingkindness and compassion." I have but to embrace it. May this family and all the families around the world who have given their sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, and national patriots embrace this word of comfort from the Lord. "This I recall to my mind, Therefore I have hope. The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness." Lam. 3:21-23. As always my tears join those of your countrymen, the world, and his family.

To the Coalition Forces, and the Viking Warriors in particular, I can never fully understand the bond you share, but always David's cry to the heavens at the loss of Jonathan and King Saul, whom he fought beside in so many battles, and loved "like a brother," "iron sharpening iron," comes to my mind. David cried out in II Samuel the first chapter in grief and sorrow. Some of his words so directly apply to this Warrior Viking. "From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan turned not back, and the sword of Saul returned not empty. Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided: they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions." In verse 25, David cries out in anguish, "How the mighty are fallen in the midst of the battle."

Father God, let us never forget this man's valor and sacrifice. I will remember his name, record it, as I do each name, tell my children and their children. Lord, it seems to me I read so often here of the loss of another Danish Warrior. ... I fear for the hearts of those who fight on Lord God. Empower them Father, lest they grow weary in war, and their hearts falter. Protect them, shield them, from the weapons of this world, and from the weapons of the unseen world, where Father God the forces of good and evil do battle for the souls of mankind. Without the freedom these men and women are dying for, spreading Your message of love and peace becomes so much more difficult. This man has died with honor not just for this day and age, but for the days, ages, and people to come.

Bear him home Father God to his just reward, from this world his light fades, may it shine brightly in Your presence.

The Remembrance Tree

The Remembrance Tree Soldiers Heart Ranch

A new project has started at the ranch, it is something from our hearts. My husband has told me that the only thing really difficult for him as he serves in Afghanistan is standing at attention on the flight line as the coffins of fallen military are carried to the plane for the military service person's final transportation home. He tells me when he performs that duty freedom and democracy mean more to him than at any other time. Our military, especially those serving in harms way in countries where freedom is as yet not complete reality, are possessed of acute information concerning democracy and freedom. Our desire in this new project will be two fold, to honor the fallen, and to make a tangible display of the cost of freedom and democracy, which we hope to share, particularly with students in our area.

Last evening I posted pictures of the fledgling endeavor on facebook, and a member of the military for whom I have developed great respect replied in a positive way, and I made response to his endorsement. As I finished typing the response, I realized it was a good explanation to give the world of our very humble efforts toward remembering The Fallen. I post it now to share here...

"I will post pictures of the two plaques I have finished for the two Navy personnel whose bodies were recently recovered. Yesterday I had camera problems, probably related to how I felt more than the camera. This is a very simple way to honor these our countries' finest, but the point is... to make everyone as aware as possible that a large part of the world has no real concept of democracy, and their citizens lack the personal freedom to learn of it's principles. Therefore, they cannot seek if for themselves. Not only have these our heroes perished for the freedom of our own nations, but for the freedom of all the world's peoples. When circumstances related to defending our own freedom and democracy cause us to act in countries where there is no freedom, it is morally wrong to desert the people of that country to fall to our common enemy who happens to be their oppressor. After we have given them a glimmer of hope concerning their own freedom, to then desert them, makes us unworthy of our own democracy. I believe God will hold us accountable if we do. Many people who are against the war effort, in all honesty, have no regard for the people of Afghanistan. I appreciate so much the ISAF facebook page and the images I find there of very real people, both Soldiers, and by that I mean anyone acting in a military role there, and the people of Afghanistan. I see in their faces the hope of humanity, and especially in the faces of the military, nobility."

I couldn't tell you who most of the actors, sports figures, and politicians are whose faces dominate the internet are... but I do recognize the faces of Soldiers, and the faces of these citizens of the world who are struggling to stand up a democracy in their own countries.

I don't know who history will best remember, but I know who God will best remember. We are going to do whatever we can to assist history."

As I re-read my words, they satisfied me as representing what the goal is of the hours of my life I will spend in this endeavor. I will be researching and collecting the names of all 44 countries of the Coalition Forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan. I will select and designate a tree in the 13 heavily wooded acres on our little ranch for each country, and there I will hang the names of the fallen. I also will extend to the world the opportunity for participation. I will ask that if you have someone you would like remembered here immediately, that you make your own small wooden plaque. The guidelines will be very simple. The base should be of natural wood, 1x6 stock, and no larger than 8 inches long; it can be painted any color that you like. The name of the military service member, the day they were born, the day they died, their native country, and the country they died serving in should be on one side. Any private message that the sender wishes to write may be on the other side, (both sides will be visible.) Any paint used should be the most durable you can find such as enamel based, and the lettering should especially be done in the most durable product you can find. I will hang the plaque and post here and on facebook a picture of the plaque and the tree it hangs in. I will be making plaques myself, as well as sharing the opportunity with various civic groups, and more importantly area schools. Before this project will be considered completed, every name will be honored and placed on a tree to remind all who come here of the price of freedom and democracy. I will also collect and laminate pictures of Soldiers and the citizens of countries where they serve or have served. Those will be hung in white frames in the chapel we have created in the very old barn which stands on our property. I will be posting pictures of our progress.

If you wish to contribute a plaque dedicated to your own special Service Person, you may send it to: Soldier's Heart Ranch
3296 South FM 331 Rd.
Sealy, Texas 77474

We would appreciate each person sharing this information w th anyone you think would wish to participate in the making of a plaque, or viewing this blog and the dairy of the progress of this project. The email address you may make contact with the project is:

debralecompte@soldiersheartranch.com

This morning I once again personally offer to all those who have served, especially in this recent struggle, my deepest appreciation of your service and sacrifice, and I pledge, never... will we take lightly what has been given, or forget your name.

You can tell so much about a man by handling his books. I have been doing some deep cleaning, and I moved the book shelf in the living room to the den to make a place for a rather formal antique piece I had found and had restored. I first emptied the book shelf of its contents, then lightly sanded the nicks out and touched them up with matching stain. I meticulously cleaned the floor where the bookcase was to find new residence, as I knew this chore would not be repeated again for awhile once all the heavy books are in place. I polished the floor, placed the bookcase exactly where I wanted it, waxed its’ shelves and began the task of replacing my husband’s books.

My husband is highly intelligent and accomplished, and that is reflected by the books he has collected over the years. The first evidence of his intelligence being indicated by his four large year books from West Point, along with the original catalog he was sent when he first made application. It is still in pristine condition, as are most of the books. Of course his 1990 Dwight D. Eisenhower Centennial Edition of the Register of Graduates and Former Cadets 1802-1990 had to find a place on the shelves. Many of his books reflect his military career which is approaching thirty years in duration. There are the books of military history, the books of military strategy, the books about military leadership, and the biographies of famous military leaders. Titles including War and Moral Responsibility, World Tensions:Conflict and Accommodation, Maxims of George Washington, The Forgotten Soldier, We Were Soldiers Once… And Young, and Thin Red Line are place lovingly by me on one shelf. Venezuela, The Democratic Experiment, Colin Powell My American Journey, Cobra II, A Guide to the Study and Use of Military History, and The Final Move Beyond Iraq also lay in stacks on the floor waiting to find their placement on the shelves. I place countless copies of Parameters, The US Army War College Quarterly side by side, like soldiers marching, on their shelf. Soldier, the Life of Colin Powell, Reagan, A Life in Letters, and From Here to Eternity round out what I consider to be a representative look at selections from his military books. I find there is among these books one that is fingerprinted, worn, and showing signs of countless readings. Why Courage Matters, written by John McCain, profoundly influenced my husband during a particularly difficult time in his military career.

My husband has been in Afghanistan for fifteen months now, serving with the Army. The project of moving the book case and its’ contents becomes a delightful experience as I begin to sense a nearness across the thousands of miles as I hold his books. By this time I am holding each book far too long, and too carefully selecting its’ place on the shelf. In some books, I am discovering things underlined or highlighted. Many books reflect his love of the South American culture and countries. They are in Spanish, for he is fluent in Spanish. He wore a mustache for several years, because as he traveled and worked in South America in his civilian job, he discovered it brought to him a revere with his software customers. I recall his experience of being in Columbia when conflict suddenly broke out, as he had began a trip to the airport, along the route he witnessed gun fire and a shooting. He arrived to find chaos at the airport, and as “officials” began to inquire of him who he was, and where he wanted to go, he realized he did not want his military ID to be found. With providential timing, he spotted a Columbian colleague with whom he had established a warm relationship. He was a person of some prestige, and by his word my husband was able to board a plane and leave the country. As I think of this experience, and how often he has been in harms way, I hold the books which I know his eyes have rapidly scanned as he absorbed every detail of information. Suddenly I am yearning once again to be by his side, physically sharing the same home and life.

The chore is becoming a morning of both longing and delight. There are many science texts, Basic Statistics, Tools for Continuous Improvement, Understanding Industrial Designed Experiments, Mathematics With Application, Statistical Quality Control, An Introduction to Linear Regression and Correlation, and the evertitillating The Annual ASTM Standards Plastics-General Test Methods Nomenclature. Among the science books lies the one book to place on the shelves on economics, it is titled simply, Economics, the Science of Common Sense. Briefly, I consider dropping that one in the mail, but I do not have the White House address.

Countless books on management take up at least two shelves, with titles of In Pursuit of Excellence, Empowering Teams, The Dening Management Method, Reengineering the Corporation, Good to Great, The New Rational Manager, The Program Management Book of Knowledge, and Getting to Yes. His leadership style isn’t reflected in any of these works, he has developed his own style, he calls it “The Gideon Principle,” he identifies the key participants with the heart and skills for the work, concentrates on their refinement, and leads them as they mentor those who might be potential upcoming leaders. He leads from the front always, never asking anyone to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. Always integrity and character are his base, and always he uses moral courage as the compass of whatever mission he undertakes.

By far the largest collection of books contain many versions and translations of the Bible and Bible studies. Strong’s Concordance, Malachi, Rekindling the Fires of Faith, Masterwork, The Blazing Center, A Journey in Faith, Experiencing God, Faith Works, 1st Peter, Message of Encouragement, The Family Bible Encyclopedia, The Historical Atlas of Judaism, and many others are placed in a grouping on three shelves. It is his personal study Bible that I spend the most time over. When he left for Afghanistan he carried a small Bible that would pack and travel well. In his regularly used Bible, which is contained in a zippered leather case, I find dozens of church bulletins with meticulous notes on each sermon. I was always aware of his making the notes, however I had never read them as I was making my own notes, which I promptly lost. I spend a long time in that treasure trove of his deepest thoughts on the sermons from our pastor, and find myself so refreshed and encouraged.

Two more of my husband’s books are telling of the man my husband is. One is entitled, How to Open a Chess Game, by 7 International Grand Champions. My husband is the most intensely competitive person I have ever known, with a stipulating factor… he always is in competition with himself, others may be involved, but his quest is always for his personal best, his state of excellence. To him any endeavor worthy of pursuit, only gets his best, nothing else will do. The last book is a very thin, small book, and one could easily overlook it. The author is a seven year old boy, and it is titled, The Christmas Present, and dedicated to his mother and father There among all the lofty titles shines the little book authored by his son, ten years ago, which says so much about the man my husband is.

I love him and long to see him, talk with him, listen to his words, share our daily lives once more. I remember the tender little routine we had each morning. I would make his breakfast, press his work clothes for the day, and we would read the Bible together as we ate breakfast before he left for his day’s work and I tended to mine. A man’s books, and how he uses them tells so much of who he is, and what his character is made of. I enjoyed my morning’s chore, and felt the thousands of miles melt away, and knew things of my husband's heart as though we had shared breakfast in that "too tender" little morning routine.