Open Letter to Lindy West Concerning Her Comment About "The American Sniper."

The comments to this article are closed at this point, but I have to make comment.  I am an American, and kept safe every day by those serving in the United States Military.  I know a lot of Military people, a few of them in my immediate family.  I have been  the wife of a Soldier serving in this present conflict, and in fact tonight my husband, who is now retired after 30 years in the United States Army, is in Iraq in his new position with the State Department. What America has asked of many of them, especially people like this man who served in the darkest places, performing the darkest jobs, is enough to break any person.  To have such articles and statements publicly printed after his death, when he can't even defend himself, becomes for me a personal obligation that I must address. The following link goes to the article written by Lindy West.  I first made many of these statements directly to Ms. West's Facebook page, as I am very certain she will never visit this blog, and I wanted to specifically address her.

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/jan/06/real-american-sniper-hate-filled-killer-why-patriots-calling-hero-chris-kyle

 Ms. West, I read your comment and article about who "the American Sniper" really was, and I am terribly interested in what research and sources you sought out before you made the statement that you did. I believe the quote was, "The real American Sniper was a hate-filled killer." Perhaps first I should explain why I am so interested. Several of my family members are, or were, members of the military during this present conflict. It is very easy to make accusations, I've made some of my own, but never without first hand knowledge of the accusations I made, or irrefutable evidence by reliable sources. You are a professional journalist, and I would very much like to know about how you came to your conclusions about Chris Kyle. I noticed that the tags on this post related to some of the hate filled responses you received to that comment. They were listed as, "Legal issue, Trolling, Hate speech, Offensive/Threatening language, etc..." I think that actually your statement, in and of itself, could be classified as any one of those things. So I am asking you to provide information about how you reached your conclusions. I personally have not seen the movie, read the book, nor do I have any personal knowledge of Chris Kyle. Just as I know that not all those who serve in the military are all that they ought to be, I also know that any person, especially one who is dead, can be maligned in The Information Age with little or no proof. On behalf of all those family members who have watched the sacrifices of their loved ones in service to this country in a war we did not start, and made sacrifices of their own, I am asking you for this information... Chris Kyle has a surviving family.

The official military records of Chris Kyle have been released through the Freedom of Information Act, and are readily available online.

https://www.muckrock.com/foi/united-states-of-america-10/chris-kyle-military-record-15881/ 

" A member of SEAL Team 3, Kyle served four tours in the Iraq War. In his time there, he is purported to have shot and killed more than 160 targets. He was awarded two Silver Stars, five Bronze Stars, a Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal and two Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medals. He was honorably discharged in 2009." Quoted from USA Today.

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation-now/2015/01/20/chris-kyle-american-sniper-fact-sheet/22046493/

There is a very interesting article from The New Yorker which addresses many of the accusations made against this man.

http://www.newyorker.com/mag.../2013/06/03/in-the-crosshairs 

  

Ms. West, have you ever known very closely someone who has served in combat? I am referring in particular to that kind of service where a man is kicking in doors, watching men die on either side of him, and having to defend his own life from the threat of imminent death while doing so?

I have known many such people. I understand a great deal about PTSD. No one who experiences war at the level that this man did is ever the same. I am sure you personally do not believe in war, however there are in particular approximately 1 million people in the Middle East who do believe in war, and who have declared it against our nation. They, with sincerity and devotion,which they are willing to give their lives for, wake up every morning intent on flying their flag from our nation's capitol. Ms. West, one of their first targets will be outspoken female journalists. They hate everything you stand for Ms. West, and would think nothing of taking your life, and doing so in the vilest way they can conceive of. That isn't the only area of the world where there are those who hate our country and all we stand for.

I can not imagine myself having to take the life of another person... yet I know that in order for our country and our people to be protected, there are those who intend us harm, who will be stopped by no other method than the taking of their lives. That fact is as old as humanity, and the answer to that problem does not lie in diplomacy... nor in compliance... nor even in prayer... Our enemies in the Middle East daily murder their own innocent countrymen... surely you understand they have no qualms about murdering our innocent countrymen. They have already proven that they do not.

Have you ever seen the 20/20 interview with Robin... or read the book by his wife...

http://abcnews.go.com/.../american-sniper-widow.../story... 

Ms. West, I think your callous evaluation reveals more about your character than his... and I seriously doubt that my words will mean anything to you, but I cannot state those two things as fact, as I do not know it as fact.

During the Holidays, Some Children Will Not See Their Military Parents

In April of 2009, on the way to a VFW meeting right before my husband, COL (R.) Randy LeCompte, deployed for war, our grand-son, Tristen, who was then six asked from the back seat, "Nana, how are we going to keep Papa Randy safe when he goes to war?"  I told him we would pray for him that God would keep him safe, because there was nothing that he and I could do, we are just human beings.  I told him we could pray that God would send angels to protect him.  I firmly believe that the earnest prayers of that little boy and others have been what has kept my husband safe for the past almost five years.

My daughter who served for eight years in the United States Army, married a Soldier.  After 9/11 she left the Arm,y worried that she and her husband might both be deployed at the same time.  She now works in the civilian sector of the Army.  Her husband returned from his fifth overseas deployment back in November.  They are both serving in Germany at this time.  Samantha and Gabby are my two grand-daughters who were born into this military family and have never known anything but the life of military kids. There are thousands of "military kids," and the people of our country, and other countries, should see to it that they do not stand in need of anything while their parent is absent at war.

One of the most defining moments of this conflict for me occurred when Samantha was about four or five and riding in the backseat of the car with her cousin Madie as we went to Walmart for things we needed to cook Thanksgiving dinner.  She was sitting quietly in the backseat, and asked a question that brought home to me the price of war for children who come from military families.  She asked, "Nana, does the enemy have families too?"  I knew I had to answer in honesty, and I replied," probably some of them do".  Then she asked a question I had no answer for.  She went on to ask, "Nana, if my daddy kills their daddy, who will take care of them?"

Samantha playing the Army Song at a school program, Ft. Hood, Killeen, Texas

I have wept many times, for many reasons, as I have thought again of those questions from such a small child.  I have thought of our own countries' children, the children of Coalition forces from countries around the world, the children from  Iraq and Afghanistan, and yes, the children of the enemy.  What a price these innocents have paid over the last ten plus years.

It isn't just the small children of military families that bear the burden of war.  Who more than a young teen needs their father or mother?  The older a child grows, I think the more acutely an absent parent is missed.  The award ceremonies where there is someone glaringly absent from the audience, the basketball games, the broken hearts, and the lectures that should sternly be given, fall to only one parent.  A phone call lecture just isn't the same. Nor is the congratulations offered over the phone, the same as that hug in person that says, "What a job well done!"  The suit picture of prom sent in an email doesn't feel the same as the kidding and smiling faces of proud parents as a young man leaves for prom.  There are pictures with mother, but not with father.  

 

 























There are even grown children who sacrifice holidays, birthdays, and the ability to call a parent on their cell phone for advice, or just to express their love, while a parent serves.  As with every age child of those in military service, some have had a parent return from war never to be the same again due to injuries sustained.   Some see their parent for the last time in a flag draped coffin.  Their sacrifice unnoticed or forgotten by most of the people that it was made for. 

Then there are the babies... infants born while a parent is at war.  I can't imagine labor and delivery without the father of the child I was bringing into the world at my side, but there are women in this country, and in the countries of all those who make up the Coalition Forces who have done just that.  I can vividly imagine however, the thoughts going through that woman's mind, and the state of her heart.  I wrote two poems about these babies who change everyday, who say their first words, take their first steps, cry through cutting their first teeth, and grow each day without the loving gaze of a proud father.  

 Rock Gently the Cradle Lullaby 

Rock gently the cradle of the Soldier’s baby where he sleeps.

Make certain he has no need that you have resources to meet.

Who would not with his life his son or daughter defend,

If an enemy stood in plain sight ready to make that child’s life end?

Somewhere across great oceans a Soldier tonight,

Stands for his country ready to fight.

Keeping watch to protect not only the son he left behind,

He keeps watch too for your son and mine.

For each of us, our children hold fast our hearts,

In order for them to grow up in liberty, someone to war must depart.

Remember the sacrifices of those left behind and take care should they weep.

Rock gently the cradle of the Soldier’s baby where he sleeps. 


I Came Home to My Daughter

There she lay, so warm, pink, soft, and sweet.
When first we finally did meet.

I saw so much of her mother there in her eyes,
The stamp of my own features on her countenance threatened to make me cry.

Wonder at the first sight of my darling daughter,
Swept my soul, and I knew my life she would forever alter.

Feelings too tender for the battlefield,
In that moment caused all my vigilance briefly to yield.

Then I realized more clearly than ever before,
I was called to war because of an evil good people everywhere deplore.

My newborn child and all the children of the world,
Need those of us in service, the flag of liberty to unfurl.

In my daughter’s face I saw the hope of our world and our nation,
Waiting for her contributions, which true peace will hasten.

I knew that in a land far away, where long I had stood the wall,
Children were seeing first hand our intent in the service of us all.

As they watch, I know they too will learn,
Their own hearts for peace and liberty will come to yearn.

In this the power of the enemy will disappear,
The truth of all our brotherhood will finally do away with all fear.

So though my heart longs to stay,
I will again return to the war zone in just a few short days.

In my mind, images of her gentle beauty,
Will give me strength and bring complete commitment to my sacred duty.

Talking by phone with my grand-children is always precious time to me.  I miss them more than I can describe.  Gabby in particular has such a devotion for the ministry we conduct at our little place called Soldier's Heart Ranch.  We didn't know when we first purchased the property and christened it Soldier's Heart Ranch that during the Revolutionary and the Civil War, Soldiers who suffered from symptoms of PTSD, (post traumatic stress disorder) were said to be suffering from Soldier's Heart.  We had, by accident, selected a name that would reflect the cause we would publicly dedicate our home to Memorial Day, 2012.  A statistic of war that you won't find just everywhere, for the statistics are managed so that they do not appear all together, but must be assembled to get the true picture, haunts my mind everyday, and prompts me to dedicate my life to serving families of the military.  In 2010, 462 men and women gave up their lives in combat, 468 took their own lives.  Many of those Soldiers had children too.
 


Our grand-daughters, whose family is stationed in Germany, will not be able to attend this dedication ceremony, and Gabby is probably the ranch's biggest fan.  When she calls me, (almost daily) all she wants to talk about is what is going on at the ranch.  Today when she called she wanted to write a poem about the ranch and "military kids."  So I helped her with making her words rhyme, and here are the results.  Read the words of a seven year old child who does not understand well the meaning of war, but none the less, has sacrificed for her country.  Someone's father or mother must go, for many of our military are women, and surely without the defense made by these men and women, none of our children will know liberty.

 Gabby's Poem  

 

Sometimes even a Soldier needs a quiet place to rest,

When he has worked hard and given his best.

Their children at home offer prayers to God above.

Asking Him to send His protection on wings like a dove.

God hears and answers their sweet prayers.

When their petitions are lifted for the fathers who dare.

To face evil enemies who against our country make war.

Freedom and liberty are what they are standing for.

They ask the Heavenly Father their mom or dad to defend,

As the struggle goes on to make the fighting end. 

I

In this photo you just have to note that Gabby insisted this day on wearing Papa Randy's boot... all day long.

Being in a military family involves many sacrifices.  The rewards can be equally fulfilling as well.  That happens if the one serving makes the time and effort to not only live a life of sacrifice and service before their children, but in that service they carefully communicate the importance of honor and devotion to sacred duty.  The other parent must also support and be committed to service.  That must be evidenced by both parents lives and all they say and do, as the reason they serve.  There is a special set of skills, a special identity, and the knowledge of how to live with purpose "above the common man," as General Douglas  MacArthur stated in his most famous speech, that is the reward that comes to the children of those who truly serve God and country.  They are empowered by the ideals lived before them, rather than being disadvantaged by the sacrifices required.  May God richly bless the children of those who serve, and may His mercy be with all the children who live with the reality of war.

 Samantha, Gabby, Brian, and Rebecca, thank you for your many sacrifices for our country.  Brian and Becky, your father and I commend you personally.  You are both persons of courage who have been through much. Thank you, and we publicly acknowledge all you have given.  Samantha and Gabby, Papa Randy and Nana have watched all you have sacrificed too, you have both done well.  We love you, are proud of you, and hope to see you all soon.

                                                      

MEN OF OUTSTANDING LIVES AND LEADERSHIP LIVE ON LONG AFTER THEY ARE GONE

Some time back, I had the chance privilege of meeting and coming to love as dear friends the widow and children of one of Afghanistan's finest sons, Mohammed Daud Daud.  He was assassinated by vile men on May 28, 2011, but when a man of this statue is killed by his enemies, the enemies are the ones who fail.  For those among us who live in the knowledge of the honor and courage of the man who stood firmly until the end for those he loved and the highest ideals of humanity, he only shines brighter, his words are remembered even more vividly, and what he stood for is lifted higher, when the enemy destroys.

 So it is with General Daud, whose life and ideals live on, only being etched in the minds and hearts of the people of Afghanistan and the world more deeply.  His life calls more clearly to those left behind, especially the youth of Afghanistan, urging that they live above the common man.  His life calls to all and urges significant living, devotion to honor, and bravery to face evil, never flinching.

In a world so hungry for the examples of lives spent in such meaningful living, that their light shines on, even in death and beyond, Mohammed Daud Daud remains a light on a hill.  The truth of his life remains to inspire, make hearts brave, and strengthen the resolve of those who would follow his example.

As I woke this morning, my mind was on his widow and children, and I considered how much they mean to me, and how fortunate I am to have come to know them and of the life of Mohammed Daud Daud.  With this consideration, came a sense of my own responsibility concerning this blessing.  It is not right that I know what I have learned from the lives of he and his family, without doing my best to share the light in which he lived, and they do still.  So I am recording and sharing his story for those in my own sphere of influence, and I trust it will further the influence of such a life so well lived.  This day, the life of Mohammed Daud Daud will spur me to higher living, to greater commitment, and to more diligence toward the things which are really important at the end of the day.  I am going to record stories of his life, as told to me by the woman he so deeply loved and cherished, in the days ahead in this blog, knowing that whoever finds them will be inspired to greater living.  As always, in my prayers I will ask for the strengthening and care of the family he left behind.  

I can think of no better place to start than with these words:

 
"The challenge of leadership is to be strong, but not rude; be kind, but not weak; be bold, but not a bully; be thoughtful, but not lazy; be humble, but not timid; be proud but not arrogant; have humor, but without folly."

You're a Grand Old Flag, For Military Fathers Everywhere

When I go to the VA in Houston, I usually have a little crying spell, as I observe the many young Veterans who I know have sustained their wounds in the present conflict. I rush to the restroom, because these heroes do not wish to be pitied, and they won't understand that my tears are about the emotion of knowing such men and women have been willing to stand for me and mine.  I cried a little today too as I read of a Wounded Warrior who brought a military event to a reverence it would not have known as he sang The National Anthem along with the others attending. How lightly we sometimes sing the National Anthem at events, perhaps because we have never experienced the rockets red glare.  

 

 The picture below is of the children at our Family Day at the 1st Battle Command Training Group of the 75th Division, Arlington Heights, Illinois.  The children holding up the award were on the team which  won the PT contest, doing the most push-ups and sit-ups, and doing the loudest hoo-ah!

When my husband speaks before school groups he always starts with having the  students stand and say the Pledge of Allegiance.  Usually, especially in the higher grades, it is half mumbled. As he winds down his speech on patriotism he tells the story from John McCain's book, Why Courage Matters, of the man who was held prisoner of war with him and tore up T-shirts which were allowed to be sent from home toward the end of their confinement. The shirts were red white and blue, and he used threads pulled from the seams and a bamboo needle he had fashioned to "sew" together a crude flag. Each day the prisoners quietly pledged the flag. Of course their captors eventually found the flag, and a two hour beating followed. It was conducted out of sight, but within clear hearing range for the benefit of the other prisoners. When the man was returned to the cell, the others cleaned the blood off and made him as comfortable as they could. A couple of hours later, the man crawled from his concrete bed, and with his bloodied hands, and through the slits of his swollen eyes, he began making another flag. My husband at this point, to end his speech, asks the students to stand and say the pledge again. There is always a very distinct difference in their participation. 

 

The rendition of the Preamble to the Constitution in the video below, and the singing of You're a Grand Old Flag is given by my grand-daughter, Gabby. She and her sister, Samantha, have been gone to Germany for three years with their father who is active duty Army, and their mother, who served eight years, and now serves in the civilian side. The pictures are of children from their school there in Germany. I was so emotional as I visited last Thanksgiving and stayed with them on the base. To be surrounded by the children of those serving was such a humbling experience for me. So today to all the fathers who are serving around the world, one of your own expressing the patriotism your service has taught her. God bless each one of you on Father's Day, especially those deployed who will not be with their children today. 

Comfort Comes From the Lord, or When God Sends a Woman Flowers, He Calls Walmart!

It seems to me that often media leads the way in the strangest of behavior; I am speaking of the vilification of American companies who achieve great success.  Sometimes when men and women conceive of great companies and then personally, through hard work, sacrifice, and dedication, lead them to the greatness that was their vision, thus achieving the “American Dream,” they become a target.  As I said, for some strange reason, they always draw at least a few vocal critics.  It does not matter that they provide along the way to their success, good paying and secure jobs with benefits, for literally thousands of American citizens, or that they give back to the communities in which they conduct business, as well as pay taxes into these communities.  Often that beautiful American principle that enables one to become, as my mother and father always instructed me, “anything you want to work hard enough to become,” makes them targets of criticism.  The particular irritant for some seems to be people getting rich while achieving the “American Dream.”  That to them is just not acceptable, and in their minds must involve something sinister and evil.  When this flawed thinking became acceptable to anyone but the seriously in need of medication, and extensive mental health services, due to being haunted by paranoia, I cannot recall.   However,  the thinking is accepted by more people than one would think these days.  I could at this point share some of the highlights of the integrity with which Sam Walton lived, all he gave back, and stories that reveal his heart and intent, which will I think contribute to his going down in history as the remarkable person he was.  Instead, I would like to focus on my own personal experience with Wal-Mart, in particular the Sealy, Texas Wal-Mart, and the people who work and earn their living in this company in that same spirit with which Sam Walton first envisioned his company.

            

When we first moved to the Sealy/Bellville area we bought our dream place, 42 plus acres, partial ag exemption, big pond, 13 heavily wooded acres, a 126 year old antique barn, and a big three year old Solitare double wide with 2X6 exterior walls. (Colonel LeCompte balked at the “double wide” thing, but since he trusts me in all things, when I told him in a year he would never know it had ever been anything but an authentic Texas working ranch house, he bought it for me.)  It had some challenges, the previous owners had 9 children between the two of them, 7 still at home.  I did not know that bubble gum came in that many colors, that anyone ever let chickens roost in a bathroom inside their home, nor that weeds could become 9 foot tall.  It was explained to me that it was a variety of ragweed called “blood ragweed.”  I was soon to learn how it got its’ name.  In order to meet and actually exceed the flood plain requirements, as the pond was originally dug, the dirt had been piled higher and higher, and packed by the heavy equipment as they went, thus building the pad on which the house was to sit.  It resulted in a pad 9 feet above the flood plain, and the house was placed on that hill of dirt with only about six feet to spare at the widest area all around the flattened top.  That produced so many unique landscaping challenges.

  Arriving at our new little ranch, we had a push lawn mower, a weed eater, and a machete that Randy had used in the Malaysian Jungle Survival School.  As most of you know, my husband is Colonel Randy LeCompte, a West Point honor graduate, as well as an honor Army War College graduate, and currently serving in Baghdad, Iraq.  He and his little machete began clearing weeds, but soon we realized we needed a little more equipment.   Of course, we went to Wal-Mart on many trips for needed materials, seed, and tools, not to mention the food to fuel both of us, substantial clothing, and gloves.

My husband so cherishes every moment spent at Soldier’s Heart Ranch, which we quickly dubbed our little paradise in the making.  Soon, his mind began to realize what release he found in being home, working on the house and barn, working with the horses, or just loafing on the 1100 square feet of wrap-around porch I added.  Much of the success of my husband’s life is found in his ability to completely focus on everything he puts his hand to, and today the ranch is a reflection of that.

 

The human mind can do that.  It can also rehearse the horrors of war, even when a man or woman struggles to prevent that from happening.  My husband has always had a heart for his Soldiers who encounter problems with PTSD, the name for the biological condition that develops for some serving in war zones.  As he enjoyed using all the new tools he bought at Wal-Mart, and worked to make our property our home, he began to realize what release from the thoughts of work and soldiering he found, and what complete peace he experienced.  That was when the idea for our 501-C began.  The idea of sharing with members of the military a place to stand down, rest, and refresh from the work required from those serving along with their families began to take shape along with the rose bushes from Wal-Mart.  
 

 

 Planting and growing things was for me the best of all the good things at Soldiers Heart, because I love all forms of self-expression.  Gardening is something that renews me.  I was soon going to need things that renewed me.  






My husband deployed for Afghanistan, and the original year he was to be gone turned into eighteen months, then two years.  Life got a little harder, and as time went on harder still.  Every week I made trips to Wal-Mart, and Texas Wal-Mart people being who they are, soon I was sharing with them that my husband was “gone to war.”  They responded the way Wal-Mart people do, with words of encouragement, and by asking me each time they saw me how I was doing.  Each responce was a genuine expression of care. 

Deployments, especially extended deployments, can become lonely and depressing for those holding down the fort.  That happened to me, and one day as the deployment stretched seemingly endlessly before me, I complained to God, asking why so much was required of me.  I moaned and groaned, cried, and wondered to Him how I would ever survive.  A series of events happened that afternoon which reminded how little I really was sacrificing, compared to the suffering that goes on in this world, but that is a whole other blog…  I repented for my weakness, asked the Lord to forgive me, and then God, being my Loving Father, sent me flowers to remind me just how much He loves me, and that He is always there.

Of course, you are thinking I am speaking metaphorically, I am not.
From the time we moved to Sealy, I frequented that garden center at the local Wal-Mart.  The people who worked there had come to know me quite well.  They knew when my husband was home on leave, because he came in with me, and as my special Wal-Mart friend said… “my face was different, smiling as it used to be.”  I had left my business card for the work we do with the military with the garden center, and Carla had taken note.  After my session with the Lord, I had gone outside to work in the yard, where I always went when I needed solace.  The fact that our fledgling efforts as a 501-C had many more of those we were serving, than support from any who were giving, so I was a little short on money to spend on anything to plant during that late summer.  I took the phone from the house and laid it on the porch in case my husband called from Afghanistan, where at that time he was serving.  Need I say it was the phone I had bought at Wal-mart?  It rang and I answered, it was the manager of the garden center, asking if I would like some plants that were no longer fresh enough to sell.  She said that she thought that with some tender loving care they could be revived, and she knew of our 501-C status, and the work we were doing.  She went on to say if I could pick them up, they were mine.  When I went to pick them up they completely filled the back of my truck, and my heart.  I lovingly planted my flowers from God, and several times since I have received a similar call from her, each time on a day when my heart was faint, and I have been petitioning heaven for strength to do what is mine to do.  To remind me  once again he loves me and will see me through this, God just calls Wal-Mart.

Losses to the War on Terror, the Stats are Out for 2012

The stats are out, 313 men and women lost their lives in combat.  As much as that grieves me, my heart collapses at the thought that 325 took their own lives as well,  I shudder to consider that there is reportedly a "storm of suicides among family members of those who have served coming."

 

News for the Families of the Fallen, Whether They Are Children, or Soldiers

 

 

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

Don't Let the Sun Go Down

The following link is to another piece by Jacey Eckhart who writes for Spouse Buzz on Military.com.  As usual, she came up with such insightful information, and called attention to something that can help all of us at times in our lives.  As I read the article on anger, it occurred to me that not only spouses go through this emotion, but often I have observed the children of military families go through difficulties concerning dealing with the anger that can come to their lives concerning a parent's service.

 http://spousebuzz.com/blog/2012/11/angry-milspouses.html

One of my favorite authors I often quote wrote a book on the emotion, of what I would call righteous anger, and how it affects individuals and societies.  
For not only does anger affect those in the military and ordinary people everywhere, it is raging in the Middle East.  The most famous of the quotes of John Steinbeck's book, The Grapes of Wrath, written about the Great Depression which hit the United States during the 1930s and produced great anger, followed by despair, is: 

"...and in the eyes of the people there is the failure: and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath.  In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage." 


I think this is the best, most relevant, and insightful thing Jacey has ever written, because of how it ties not only to an individual's response to the world around her, but to the state of the world in general.  I think most of her pieces are exceptional, but none so touch the epicenter of problems in our world as this one does.  I think that anger like this so silences  us sometimes as Jacey refers to, because we are afraid of sliding into it ourselves, or afraid that whatever she or he is angry at is legitimate, and that it can happen to us too.  I have been to that tumultuous anger place, over both personal and global matters, and it is located right next door to utter despair.  We have to be careful never to give it free rein, or terrible, terrible things can happen, such as the Soldier who stole out of the base in Afghanistan and murdered innocent people.

I am one of those people who believes that when we suffer loss of any kind, whether it is due to illness, an unfaithful spouse, the death of a child, or any other of life's great pitfalls, that we go through the five stages of grief taught by most of the therapists of our day.  I think we should be allowed them, but that the very certain danger is that getting stuck in any one of those stages can rob us of our lives, and literally so concerning the stage of anger. 

I think we who are military spouses have to have tools, skills we have developed for just such times in our little tool boxes.  After all, we have learned a great deal about such strategies from the same military our husbands serve in.  That is what FRG is SUPPOSED to be all about, preparation for deployment,  that doesn't mean just getting the Power of Attorney in place.  The situation one is facing of course doesn't always have to do with deployments, it can just as easily be related to any injustice or loss we encounter in our lives.  Injustices, and noting the failures of society around us can also cause such anger.  I think the single greatest contributing factor to anger is found in the loss of control of a situation.  Of course many times it is anger itself that leads to loss of control.  I think of the woman who was a military serviceperson herself, and married a Soldier who then spent years in the intelligence side of the military.  One day something inside of her led her to taking a gun and shooting both of her teenage children dead.  I am certain she loved them dearly, and that anger with free reign in her life, led to her utter despair.

I use to think to myself when I would tell my mother some "horrible injustice" that someone had done to me, how dumb she was when she said, "Debra, that is indeed so sad and I am sorry it happened to you, but be careful not to love it, to stroke it, to feed it, and to name it George."  (That quote she got from an old Buggs Bunny cartoon.)  Look around you for someone in worse shape than you, with more burden than yours, and reach out to them and pretty soon, you will forget your own troubles.  Never would she allow me to find in her attention that would feed and give reason to parking in my anger, grief, or pain.  My mother is a wise woman.  Every time I would find myself giving into her urging, even though I really didn't want to.  Without exception that concept of hers worked every, single, time.
 

That is not to say that the disappointments and losses of  our own lives, even the little things are not of importance, that is just one of the tools my mother was talking about for lifting us from the quagmire that anger can become.  Probably the best advice of all about anger is "Do not allow the sun to go down on your anger," which is from the Bible.  It supports my own finding about anger in my life, and Jacey's too.  Tomorrow I wish to explore more the phenomenon of anger in societies, especially those of the Middle Eastern cultures.  This is such an important subject for all of mankind.  Thank you Jacey for expertly bringing to the surface a subject tied to so much in our personal lives and our world.