Thank You for Your Service

I watched a bit of television on Memorial Day. I watched the President honor those who fought in war, specifically from the Viet Nam era conflict. Soldiers of the Viet Nam conflict were neglected and ignored upon their return stateside. I've never been sure why that occurred but somewhere in my soul I believe it was due to the intense and immediate media coverage that allowed the American peoples to view war as they had never seen before, unless of course they had been involved in such military activities.

Every evening our homes and living rooms were bombarded with images and reports of what was happening in Viet Nam. I was younger then, but still I remember the images that were displayed for all America to view. Who does not remember the horrific footage of the naked little girl burned so badly from napalm? Or how on March 16, 1968, during the Vietnam War, United States troops under the command of Lt. William L. Calley Jr. carried out a massacre of about 500 unarmed men, women and children in the village of My Lai?

My own husband served two tours of Southeast Asia. More fortunate than most, he did not see a lot of combat battle, but worked as a specialist in a supply depot for the Air Force. The base had attacks on occasion and shells and mortars flew, but it was nothing like the Army or the Marines saw.

I did not know him at that time. While he was off serving his country I was stateside exercising my free speech in protesting the war. Not in a violent manner but making my presence and voice heard outside the Draft Board. Whichever one of us was right or wrong, well that still remains to be seen in the scope of eternity, however I do thank God for the right and privileges that have been preserved by those in uniform. That certainly includes my freedom of speech.

I remember well the first time I saw him in uniform (VFW) and calling cadence while marching in a Memorial Day parade. My heart swelled with pride! 

Recently he qualified for veterans' benefits and they have deemed his heart condition to be part and parcel of his Viet Nam experience. The defoliant housed at the supply depot. Who knew? We certainly didn't. We're still waiting to hear if his asthma, which mysteriously turned up when he was 38 is also related to Agent Orange.

Years ago we were in D.C. and visited the Viet Nam Memorial. That experience was overwhelming.

Most of the television channels were attempting to honor veterans via movies. On the Spike network A Band of Brothers was playing nonstop. I do realize that even though based upon actual events, a lot of this program is artistic drama.

The next to the last program of the day showed the Band of Brothers coming upon a Prisoner of War / Concentration Camp and liberating those imprisoned who remained alive. It never ceases to bring me to tears to watch programs of the liberation of those from concentration camps.

It made me recall a visit we had with Dale and Wilma Bumpus, the family from whom we purchased the 100 yr. old farm house in Ohio. I am not sure how or why the conversation turned to war time activities and soldiers. Mr. Bumpus brought out some artifacts he brought home from Germany. Then quietly, reverently, this Christian man told of stumbling upon a concentration camp and of the horrors he witnessed. This man, this for all appearances a strong, stout and healthy farmer was reduced to tears and sobs remembering the war crimes he and his squadron stumbled upon that fateful day.

What does one say in the face of such horror and atrocity? There was nothing that could be said. We could only sit there quietly with his wife Wilma and listen with tears streaming down our own faces. Those horrific images were permanently etched upon his mind and heart for the remainder of his days.

I am by no means a pacifist, but I love peace and am antiviolence inclined. It breaks my heart even now to see pictures from the middle East where children are playing with toy weapons and acting out that environment in which they live.

I had a pastor give me a definition of what being a pacifist or conscientious objector actually consisted of.  Simply stated he said if aggressors come to your village, your home and still you are unwilling to take up arms to defend your property, your family and your home, then you can claim the title and status. If, however, you are incensed enough to defend yourself, your family and community, then you cannot make that claim. That gives me cause to pause… and reflect even more deeply upon what Memorial Day is about.

Pure and simply, it is about giving honor where honor is due. It is about saying “thank you for your service” and meaning it. It is about walking through an airport and seeing a group of soldiers, both male and female, and spontaneously breaking out into applause. Or walking intentionally up to a person in uniform and thanking them for their service.

Not too many years ago we were in an airport when I noticed a young couple. He was behind his wife with a hand on her shoulder while she led him to where they needed to be. As I got closer I saw his T-shirt. Wounded Warriors it said. The scars on his face told the story of an IED explosion that left him scarred and without sight.  He had his legs, he had his arms and he had his wife. What does one do or say in the face of that? Thank you seems so inadequate for such a sacrifice.

This is America. This is the land I love. We can debate war until Jesus comes to take us home. If you have served this country in some manner – thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!

Tamara

PS  Psalm 72:4

 

New International Version (NIV)

⁴ May he defend the afflicted among the people 
and save the children of the needy; 
may he crush the oppressor. 

Silent Sunday

On the Home Front

Refurbished Chiminea

I was inspired to recycle a broken chiminea this weekend. High winds last fall toppled it over and the top piece broke. Even though the Hubs discarded the broken chimney, I could not part with the base. This is what I ended up with:

Succulents in a terra cotta pot and a saucer on top with LED (flame-less) candles in the bottom. The flame-less candles were my daughter Shannon's suggestion! They have an auto timer and I think they look marvelous!

Since Husband is retired, he takes care of all things inside and outside the home, meaning specifically he cleans, does laundry, gardens, plants flowers. Suffice it to say he amazes me! Here are some pix of our raised bed garden. You can see a corner of it above along with the hose that leads to the drip hose in the raised bed.

The Lone Zucchini Plant

Only one of three zucchini plants lived. ALAS! Usually they are so prolific one will be enough!

The Brussels Sprouts

I've not tried Brussels Sprouts before, but have a renewed interest (read taste here) in them!

The Tomato Plants

Husband planted three tomato plants - two regular type and the largest, bushiest one is a cherry tomato plant. They are full of blossoms and green tomatoes! (I'm salivating as I write this!)

More of the Tomato Plants

We will plant more in July. If it is like last year, we will have fresh tomatoes into December!

Asparagus Plants

Do any of you know anything about raising asparagus? This is year two of setting them out and we are at a loss to know what to do with them or how to tend them. I understand we are to wait until next year to begin harvesting them. Just as plants, they are lovely and airy looking.




Next we move to the front yard: 

Artichoke to the left of the front window

Artichokes do quite well in Arid-zona! These were planted last fall and were so small! I was afraid they might not winter well.

Artichoke to the right of the window

Artichokes are a lot of work to prepare for eating, but are Oh So Lovely to look at!

Pomegranate

This is our pomegranate tree / bush - it will depend upon our care of it which direction it will go...  I have wanted a pomegranate since I learned they grow here in the SW!

The blossoms are as beautiful as the mature fruit! You can see the small, immature fruit already on the bush.

Front Yard

This is Husband's front yard endeavor. His plants in the flagpole area, then flower pots he set out along with the solar lighting. The spikey red yucca have been here since we planted them 16-yrs. ago. They get divided on a regular basis. To the left of the sidewalk to the door is where I plant basil.

Well, that about it for the tour of our Arid-zona gardening!

Have a lovely day,

Tamara

p.s.  Genesis 2:9

New King James Version 

⁹ And out of the ground the Lord God made every tree grow that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. The tree of life was also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Two trees... of which do you choose to eat?

The Winery

Coronado Winery, Willcox AZ

John 15: 1-8

New King James Version

15 “I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. ² Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit. ³ You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you. ⁴ Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me.

⁵ “I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing. ⁶ If anyone does not abide in Me, he is cast out as a branch and is withered; and they gather them and throw them into the fire, and they are burned. ⁷ If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, you will ask what you desire, and it shall be done for you. ⁸ By this My Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit; so you will be My disciples.

This weekend was our 33rd Anniversary. To observe said occasion, we decided to travel to a nearby winery for tasting and dinner. Much to our dismay, the winery was operating on limited staff and didn't mention in their online brochure that dinner wasn't served on Sundays. There were kind enough to point us in the direction of the community for the Annual Wine Tasting Event. So we drove there and had a time seeing the various winery displays and wines. For $10.00 one received a wine glass and six tickets to 'taste' various wines.

It was fun and interesting. They had local groups playing music (jazz in particular and my favorite!). The weather was quite warm, so we didn't stay outside too long - mid to high 90's already.  Frankly, I wasn't aware there were to many winery's in the SE section of Arizona. It reminded me of the scripture from from John 15. 

Pardon me? Is my fruit showing? Or is it that time of year for pruning?

Have a wonderful week!

Tamara

Silent Sunday

Living a "Chipper" Life

I met my cousin Chipper in 1959. We were taking one of the dreaded cross-country family vacations in the station wagon. We consisted of father, mother, three children, and my maternal grandmother for a total of six souls in a very, very close proximity.

I wish I could say my memory was clear on all the details of this family venture, but I was the one who became car sick.

Mom told the story of my being adopted. It was winter, I was a year old and Mom and Dad dressed me up in a new snowsuit and traveled from Ohio to Michigan to visit family. I was standing in the front seat between them (a common practice back in the day). Dear old Dad was smoking his cigar. That’s probably when I turned green and vomited down his neck and arm. He promptly stopped the car, got out, went to the side of the road and repeated my act.  I wonder if they felt they had been given a defective model and wanted an exchange? More than likely that feeling was compounded during my teen years…

Back to the Road Trip: Riding in the back area of a station wagon only made the issue of getting motion sick worse. Therefore Dramamine was administered in mass quantities and I slept. And I slept… and I slept… and I slept! Fortunately I was awakened to see Carlsbad Caverns, Mt. Rushmore, Old Faithful, the Petrified Forest, the grand sequoias and the ocean! We were actually living and traveling the Woody Guthrie song THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND! Well, perhaps in title and chorus only.

THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND
words and music by Woody Guthrie

Chorus:
This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me 

As I was walking a ribbon of highway
I saw above me an endless skyway
I saw below me a golden valley
This land was made for you and me

We stopped in the evenings and stayed in motels. It was always a treat when the motel had a swimming pool. Out came the swimsuits and my younger brothers and I would have preferred not to eat any dinner, but just to swim. Back then, one had to wait for half an hour after a meal before swimming to ensure you wouldn’t get cramps and drown. After being confined in the car for hours and hours, getting out and swimming was a wonderful release of tension and energy.

I don’t know if there was ever an actual travel itinerary for these road trips as we ventured around the country. We stopped and visited various family members as we traveled. That is when I met Chipper.

He and his family lived somewhere in country of Texas. Chipper was approximately my age and was a special needs child. We fell hard and fast into the comfort of each other’s presence. I loved him and Chipper loved me. For that very short period of time, Chipper and I could not or would not be separated.

Chipper’s special needs were consuming for the adults in his life at that point in time. He had limited mental capacity and then some physical aspects that also needed time and attention. He was “hyper” before the term had been coined and when he got going too fast, his mom would say, “Chipper!” and he would respond, “gotta relax, gotta relax…”

My brother was teasing me in some manner and Chipper became my defender and picked up the bug spray and ‘hit’ him with a dose of it. To this very day my brother believes that was the single, solitary event that caused him to need glasses!

I cannot imagine the strain of having a special needs child has on a family unit, but his parents divorced and Chipper went to live with his Grandma and Grandpa. This was a time in history when family took care of family.

Chipper worked around the ranch with his Grandpa and when he misbehaved the implied threat was, “Chipper, do you want me to take you to the woodshed?” He would straighten right up.

As happens in the life and times of family, Grandma became ill and passed on. It came down to Chipper and Grandpa. One day while the two of them were working away on the ranch, Chipper disappeared for awhile. When he reappeared, with his limited abilities and speech, he took Grandpa to the house where Chipper had prepared lunch for the two of them. As I was told the story, he even offered prayer for the meal. Even now as I write this, I am so very humbled by this act of reverence and love on Chipper’s part.

So life continued on… then Grandpa became ill and had to be hospitalized. Grandpa died. Chipper had been placed into an institutional environment. He was there for six months and then he too, died. I believe it was from a broken heart. I also believe that Chipper is in the arms of a Savior who loves him and is surrounding him with such a pure love… I look forward to seeing Chipper again someday.

Things I learned from Chipper…

…special needs children (and adults) are truly special

…they are probably much closer to Christ than I can fathom

…they love totally and completely when they trust you

…that I can behold the heart of Christ when I am in the presence of someone special

Tamara

PS Psalm 4:3
You can be sure that anyone who serves the Lord faithfully is special to him.
 The Lord listens when I (they) pray to him.

Love in any Language

Happy Mother's Day! May we celebrate the similarities of our lives and minimize the differences.

Motherhood

Agnes Lee

Mary, the Christ long slain, passed silently,
Following the children joyously astir
Under the cedrus and the olive tree,
Pausing to let their laughter float to her-
Each voice an echo of a voice more dear,
She saw a little Christ in every face.

Then came another woman gliding near
To watch the tender life which filled the place.
And Mary sought the woman's hand, and spoke:
"I know thee not, yet know thy memory tossed
With all a thousand dreams their eyes evoke
Who bring to thee a child beloved and lost.

"I, too, have rocked my Little One.
And He was fair!
Oh, fairer than the fairest sun,
And, like its rays through amber spun,
His sun-bright hair.
Still I can see it shine and shine."
"Even so," the woman said, "was mine."

"His ways were ever darling ways" -
And Mary smiled -
"So soft, so clinging! Glad relays
Of love were all His precious days.
My little Child!
My vanished star! My music fled!"
"Even so was mine," the woman said.

And Mary whispered: "Tell me, thou,
Of thine." And she:
"Oh, mine was rosy as a bough
Blooming with roses, sent, somehow,
To bloom for me!
His balmy fingers left a thrill
Deep in my breast that warms me still."

Then she gazed down some wilder, darker hour,
And said - when Mary questioned, knowing not:
"Who art thou, mother of so sweet a flower?" -
"I am the mother of Iscariot."

Silent Sunday