From the Ranch

From the Ranch

Friday, January 7, 2011

My Beloved Husband Returned Once Again to Iraq, Or Laughter and Other Good Medicine


As happens each time my husband returns to Iraq, I am experiencing a small period of mourning. I love him so. One of the reasons is his laughter, which comes so easily. That laughter fills the house when he is home, because he finds so much joy in life. He finds adventure as well, everywhere he goes...

Everything is an adventure and a road march with Randy. As his wife, I never know where I am going to wake up. He arrived on the 22nd of December, after a three day journey from Iraq to Illinois, to Rock Island Arsenal, where his command is. He spent time there briefing those who need briefing... there are always scores of them, and then got on a plane to get home to the ranch. He missed all of the snow canceling of flights; did I mention he is uncommonly lucky? Then on December 23, we loaded up in the truck with Son Boy, Ginger, our dog, Christmas presents, and luggage and headed for Georgia. We stopped in New Orleans to see his mother and sister, stayed the night in billeting at a military base, then arrived in Georgia to spend Christmas with Rebecca, our daughter. We had a wonderful time, complete with snow on Christmas Day, of course he was the clear winner in the snow ball fight. Son Boy didn't bring any gloves, and soon his hands were frozen, and he couldn't make snowballs efficiently. Randy had heard there might be snow in Georgia on Christmas Day and had packed his leather gloves. They made snow balls very efficiently!

Without letting the snow melt under our feet, we headed back to Texas, stopping first to see Brian's grand-parents in Alabama. Raymond and Alma love their grand-children deeply, especially Brian and our Becky. Raymond and I both managed to avoid, for the most part, talk of politics, so it was a fun and peaceful visit. Raymond is a crusty old sailor, (Navy man,) and an artist, I loved viewing his work. Soon, after chicken and the trimmings, plus Alma's home made fried pies, we were on the road again.

Randy had made reservations, and we spent the night at another post in billeting, then stopped again in New Orleans. We also made a special stop for me along the trip home at Prejean's in Lafayette, but that is worth a whole other blog, complete with pictures. I love Zydeco music! We arrived home on the 27th. As I said, life is always an adventure and a road march with Colonel LeCompte!

We had a young military family as guests during the New Year's weekend, and what fellowship and fun we enjoyed. They have two beautiful young children, Tyler and McKenzie. McKenzie is just over a year old, and about the second day they were here, each time Randy laughed, McKenzie would too... and not in a "baby" way. She would throw back her head and laugh as loud as she could, mimicking Randy.
I found it so delightful that each time Randy laughed that rich, beautiful, baritone laugh, she responded by trying to laugh in the same hardy way. Of course each time she did this, we all laughed again, starting McKenzie laughing all over. We did a lot of laughing New Year's week-end... I love how Randy's LeCompte's laughter fills the house when he is home.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

What a glorious Christmas we experienced. It was so rich with God's love, good friends, new good friends, family, laughter, and blessings too numerous to list. Being life in this world, it was also filled with challenges, but as always, God was "sufficient unto the day." I have promised God I will faithfully blog this year, recording for myself, and any whom the words would lift, God's leading, fulfilling of promises, and provision for my life and that of my beloved husband.

Ours is a journey conducted against the background of war. Not only the war in the Middle East, but the war that goes on around us every day of good and evil. There are so many very good people in this world, and we have the treasure of calling more than our share of them friends and family.

Just as there are good people, there are also those consumed by evil, those who have made themselves "god" of all they think and do. It not only leads to their destruction, but imposes on good people everywhere the necessity of standing against all their evil intents. The largest "evil intent" which I see at work in the world is that of the terrorists determined that God is in need of their assistance to force people to love and serve Him. What a blasphemy that is before God. The idea that God is in need of terrorists to conquer the world and force love toward Him, and obedience toward Him on people of this world, or the idea that He even desires this, is to me the worst of dishonor toward God. He is all powerful, all knowing, and capable of accomplishing anything He desires without one wit of assistance from anyone or anything, and He alone created all.

All of creation is the work of His hand, He could have made creatures of our characteristics without number, who lacked a will to choose anything but to love and serve Him. Never has He needed a single terrorist to force love toward Him. Never was it, or will it ever be, gratifying to God to be worshiped by force, and those who shed blood, create horror, and give their lives to this cause, never coming to understand this delusion, are truly lost forever. Those who live in the terror of their acts of violence and death, and are hindered by their acts of horror in finding their own way to The Living God, must have someone to stand in the gap for them against these evil men and women. Those who live in the countries most affected by their acts of horror in the name of the God of Peace, must receive protection from this evil, because always, when evil is tolerated, it grows, spreads, and consumes.

The opportunities afforded by our own great nation, the freedoms guaranteed by our Constitution, are not deserved by the people of our nation alone. They are deserved, and indeed "endowed" to each of us, regardless of our geographical location of birth or dwelling on the planet, by The Living God. As Wendell Willkie once said, and I love to quote, "
Freedom is an indivisible word. If we want to enjoy it, and fight for it, we must be prepared to extend it to everyone, whether they are rich or poor, whether they agree with us or not, no matter what their race or the color of their skin."

I have found my own part in the struggle against this strong and ever growing evil enemy. The God I serve has whispered to my heart that I am to support the Warriors sent out to crush this evil which is so intent upon the destruction of the personal freedom which was the Creator's design as He, by His divine hand, created the people of this world. As men and women leave the comfort of their homes and families from countries all over the world to stand in defense of the human race, they sacrifice in so many ways, and some of them make the ultimate sacrifice representing "no greater love." All of us owe them a debt which we will never have the currency to repay. We must support and encourage them as they fight the good fight. We must ensure that the voices of the unwise, who do not understand the level of intent of the enemy, nor the enemies capabilities, are not the prevailing voice. We must provide them without hesitation, every resource they need to stand between the good people of the world, and such a cruel enemy. We must ensure that they are each empowered and enabled with the building of their inner spirit by our visible and tangible support. All of our words, commitment of resources, and private business must demonstrate that always the Soldiers of this cause can count upon those who sent them away from their homes and families to a place of danger, death, and horror. When they return, heroes and heroines, we must honor them, minister to their needs, both physical and emotional, and never neglect the needs they return with.

My husband and I have pledged our personal resources and energies to this effort, opening our home and the beautiful place God has made us stewards of to these ideals, and I cannot express the blessings we have received in return. Daily we come to know more uncommon men and women and their families, from the parents who raised them, nurturing them in the ideals of honor and service, to their children, growing up in the same principles. We do not have a home which reflects the honor these Warriors should receive, we live as the humble people before God that we are, but surely we see God use the resources granted to us to minister to those He has called to stand.

There is peace to be found here, a place to rest with family, a place to search for and find answers to the difficult questions and matters of war... a place to "stand down." God provides it, and we facilitate God's providing it. It is deeply satisfying life work. Pray for us as we serve, pray for the Warriors, pray for their families, and pray for our nation. May God's richest blessings be yours as you do so, and best wishes for this New Year. May you prosper, may you triumph, and most of all, may you come to know, love, and serve The Creator. He stands waiting to make Himself and His love and peace known to you.


Friday, November 12, 2010

This Is An Excellent Facebook Page for Information about the People and Culture of Afghanistan

http://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=173642565980019&id=100000028306588&notif_t=feed_comment#!/AfghanCulture

From the Ranch: The Heart of an Infantryman Is the Same In Any Language

From the Ranch: The Heart of an Infantryman Is the Same In Any Language

The Heart of an Infantryman Is the Same In Any Language



Poetry continues to pour from my heart about the war as I observe its’ faces and hear its’ stories. I am really trying to discipline myself to make my own record, and share that record here. With that, this morning I offer a poem inspired by my husband telling me of observing Afghanistan men doing basic training after joining the Afghan National Army. I have made friends with some young people from Afghanistan, and I have been privileged to know of Afghanistan and her people through their eyes. We have discussed many issues, and I respect and admire these people, and have somewhat of an understanding of the personal sacrifice and risk it takes for them to raise up their country from the tyranny which has long haunted their land. I do not know that I could put myself and my family at the risk of death to help do the same were it my country. With the discontent toward the war on the part of many of the American people, it would trouble me that I might find myself left holding the bag, without the resources needed to complete the liberation of my country. That they do step out, bringing such risk to their lives, criticism from some of their own countrymen, and from people all around the world who doubt their true motivations, strikes me as uncommon moral courage.
So this morning I relate to you the thought process which my husband went through as he observed these strong and proud men at attention before their instructor, and some them in sandals, and some with bare feet. You will also get the feel of what the heart is like of a dedicated, died in the wool, ever loyal, honor graduate of West Point and the Army War College, who is a colonel serving his last days of a 30 year career in Afghanistan and Iraq. You will note too how much I love and admire him as well as the people of Afghanistan.

Bare and Sandaled Feet

He strode purposely from his office, but stopped to stare at their bare and sandaled feet.
Afghan Soldiers in training, at attention in perfect military bearing, his gaze their eyes did not meet.
How could they run, how could they make a stand?
Were their feet not cut by the rocks, burned in the hot sand?
He continued his powerful stride, but now he detoured to command.
His questions were met with assurance that boots had been ordered, plenty to meet the demand.
He returned to his work where he labored far into the night,
Then made his way to his quarters, laid down, and turned out the light.
Soon thoughts of work faded, and were replaced by scenes of the blessings of his life.
He thought of friends, family, his beloved home, and his strong and adoring wife.
The beats of his heart slowed, and in his mind appeared The Long Gray Line in motion.
Familiar feelings rose, and as each night, again he vowed his “last true measure of devotion.”
As sleep stole over him a smile was on his face, at the memory of the strength of the bare and sandaled feet,
And his mind saw visions of a firestorm of courage and valor, which soon the enemy would meet.
Written by Debra LeCompte, November 6, 2010

Dedicated to the love of my life, Colonel Randy LeCompte, and his Infantryman’s heart,
West Point, and The Long Gray Line,
The Soldiers of The Afghan National Army, and
The Kabul Milli Boot Factory, Kabul, Afghanistan

Thursday, November 11, 2010

The Promise That Lies In the Next Generation

The anniversary on the 9th of this month of our son’s beloved mother, Margaret Jewel Moody, passing from this world to her reward caused me to reflect on the lives of both Brian and Rebecca his sister. When our son arrived from Georgia as a sophomore, he had left the only home he had ever lived in, and moved several states away into his now main home here in Texas. What a culture shock it must have been! From a suburb of Atlanta, to a rather remote rural residence in Austin County, Texas, located between Bellville, population 3,424, and Sealy, population 4,582. Of course the LeCompte’s real address is Austin County, Texas, and specifically Soldiers Heart Ranch lies directly under heaven. I laughed with Brian at the college professor who teaches one of the advanced dual credit classes he is in at his high school, when as he was lecturing, his gaze locked on something outside the classroom window. He paused and remarked, I believe that is the only herd of cattle I have ever seen directly outside a classroom.

It has not been easy, Margaret Jewel adored her children, and everyone knew it, especially them. What a gift from God to have a loving and adoring mother, and daily her instruction and care. Her children were her focus, and not until they were past childhood did she seek a career outside her home, for their care was her life. She brought laughter and fun and the practice of living in joy as a life long habit to their lives.

So, Brian facing quietly a huge burden of grief, packed up, told his life long friends he would be back often to visit, and he made his way to Texas in a van his dad had rented for the move. They drove cross country, and as they traveled Brian gave that learner’s permit driver’s license a real work out, and father and son laughed and joked their way across the country. They both have an excellent sense of humor, and they like to practice it. Both of them are also highly intelligent, and I love listening to that part of the exchange of their barbs and 8th grade boy jokes. I have noted in life that boys and men do not hug as much as women, but rather they insert the very personal touch of wrestling in their relationship. It is their disguise for their need to touch each other in affection, and it is really hard on the furniture as they grow. Despite the very clear thumb print of his mother, I also see clearly his father. They are birds of a feather. A natural born leadership ability is one of each of their most visible characteristics, and their love of adventure and travel will be one of the ways they are most remembered.

Another way Brian is like his entire family is his intelligence, but I must agree with his father, there lies in him the potential to achieve even more than any of them. His intelligence is a bit scary to me, who doesn’t have to study calculus to make 110 for a semester average, that just isn’t natural? However I did hang that beautiful certificate with the accompanying gold charm he received, the coveted “B” Award in Pre AP Calculus, prominently in the den among his father’s awards. I think I may have to get a bigger den, I see a long line of awards headed this way. His national honor society membership, and Academic Excellence Award have a place as well, and that covers only the past year, so I will have to take down pieces of art and replace them with the upcoming awards.

Then I see emerging that will of iron his father possesses. I am noting when Brian decides to do something, just stand aside, give him room, and watch him do it. When he moved to Texas he had led a more sedentary life, participating in the traditional life of boys that age, which is conquering the world through video games. When he moved here the high school social life seemed to take front and center stage. He decided last January he was going to shed excess weight, and that is exactly what he did... over 50 pounds so far. He accomplished that by will power alone, working out at the gym, and taking up a passion of his father’s, running. I know ladies, but he has youth and the metabolism of a man on his side, sigh, some things I will need to ask the Lord about when I get to heaven, to quote a Marine I know.

Brian is very likable, tells a great joke and makes me laugh. So many times while his father has been deployed, different challenges would cause me to begin sinking under the weight of my own personal sacrifice. That loving nature both of his parents endowed him with would kick in and a dog and pony show so bright and shiny would rev up, and I would soon forget the low place I was in. I truly do not know what I would have done without him through this.

While last year it could not really be said he was a man, still when he would spend the night with a friend, I could not sleep well, constantly listening for any threat. When his father sleeps beside me, I sleep like a baby, not so much so for these past months. Loneliness for my husband and the knowledge of just how safe I am snuggled in his embrace starkly contrasts sleeping only with the stuffed Super Man doll he won for me at the Keema Boardwalk. Brian’s presence in the back bedroom of the house always makes me feel safer. He, like his dad and I both, is an excellent shot, and I see in him that Warrior capability. Together we would make a formidable threat to any unwanted intruder.

I have, with his mother from heaven’s window, the privilege of watching God in the process of the development and implementation of a courageous man of honor and integrity, a true son of the Living God, as I watch Brian swiftly moving into manhood. Both of us, his father, sister, a great pair of grand-parents, and a host of other friends and family will soon see the end product, because Brian’s heart and soul clearly belong to the Lord. One of the most comforting and soothing things of my life right now is to hear Brian read to me out loud from the Bible as I work in the kitchen. I can hear mothers everywhere drawing their breath in at the thought of that. Yes, I think that gives hint of a direction of leading in his life, but we shall see, as I watch one of the mighty men of valor in my life move into manhood and service before our God. I humbly offer thanks to God this morning for the privilege of watching the making of the man.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

True Intent


A friend from the Danish Royal Navy often posts pictures of the war in Afghanistan. Some of them so haunt me I cannot always sleep. I wrote the following poem after viewing the picture added here.















True Intent

The picture finds them crouched in the dirt of foreign soil,

Many a mile they have walked in the heat, and still on they have toiled.

An enemy dark and sinister, with evil intent they do hunt,
And then with deadly force they valiantly confront.

Fierce and foreboding in their equipment and gear,
Lethal to the threat of the enemy, they instill a chilling fear.

The civilians who watch have little reference to these Soldier’s intent,
Only having known the tyrant’s agenda to give them hint.

For wives and mothers, sisters and brothers, they have left home,
The mountains of this foreign country to roam,

In search of a threat which leaves the freedom of the whole world at stake.
Their duty and mission they will never forsake

But now they provide protection for someone inside their human wall.
In the tracking of the enemy, they witness an innocent victim fall.

The wicked explosive device of the cruel terrorist’s hand,
Brings out the true heart and purpose of this warrior band.

Not only do they stand for those they left behind,
Their lives they risk yet again for the good of all mankind

This stranger, of another nation, lies wounded and exposed,
 Testimony is given by their huddled bodies that they are true heroes.

God keeps account of how each individual’s life is spent.
 And at the end will reveal each person's heart and true intent.

He has foreshadowed his words concerning these, the valiant,

When He said, “Well done thou good and faithful servant.”