Waiting for Caleb's Belongings

The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want.
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death and I will fear no evil.
Your rod and your staff they comfort me.

Words cannot describe my feelings right now, as I await the arrival of the moving van with my son's belongings, his car and his motorcycle.

How can I do this?
How can I watch as this truck makes its way to my home with everything from my son's world?
The world he left a little over three weeks ago - anyway that's what the calendar says.
For me - time only tells me that he is not here.

I awaited the moving van's arrival a few years ago when he came home.
It was exciting and I anticipated the moment that truck would come rolling down my street.


It came again when he re-enlisted.
Not much to load.
"Travel light" was his motto.
I stood in the yard, and watched as the truck left...
he was off on a new adventure, this pathfinder son. He was following his dream, his destiny.
He was ready.

I was at peace. I knew it was what he was meant to do.
I prayed -
Godspeed my warrior son.

I don't know what to expect today.
Right now, I feel sick at my stomach.
Tears sting my eyes.
I'd like it all to be a dream.
But, I know it's not.

I know my son will not be coming home with his stuff this time, and that is
almost more than I can take in.
There must be some mistake.
Only I know there isn't.

I've never been down this road, and right now it seems like a movie being played out in the reality of my life.
I'm living a part I can't get away from.

The Lord is my shepherd.
It's not just a saying - he really is.
He has to be.
His rod and his staff they comfort me.

I know the meaning of walking through the valley of the shadow of death.
It is a valley right now.
It hurts.
But, I can't back out.
I can't walk away.
I have to walk through it.
There is a shadow...I don't like it.
I'd rather the sun being shining bright, and the world be like it was...
However, nothing is the same.

Death, where is your sting?
Love conquered all.
Hope lives in my heart despite the shadow.

My heavenly  Father has not failed me - ever.
He will be with me.
He will uphold me with the right hand of his righteousness.
His peace and his love envelop me.

It is where I am.
It is where I am called right now.
I can do all things through Christ who is my strength.
His words are life to my bones, and health to my being.
The healing balm of Gilead is mine.

Selah.

Thank You For Honoring Caleb's Life

Dear Friends,

Two weeks ago, Wednesday, Februrary 27, at one am in the morning two Marines came to our door. The news they brought changed our lives forever. It doesn’t seem like two weeks ago, because time stood still that morning.

“You have many decisions to make,” the company commander spoke to me on the phone. His soothing and assuring manner helped me gain my composure and know that I could do what I had to do.

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind. Many decisions were made to honor my son, Caleb.

Today I am thankful for his life. I thank Caleb for being the giving person he always was. I honor and thank him for serving his country because he loved it and believed in what it stood for. I know he willingly gave all. I thank him and will always regard him in the highest of honor for being a man of integrity. Most of all I thank him for being Caleb. Our love for him lives on.

Our utmost thanks to so many people who showered us with love. To so many who showed gratitude for Caleb’s life.

My neighbors on Paradise Drive lined our street with flags. I have the best neighbors in the world. Thank you.

When, we arrived in Burlington following the funeral car, people holding flags lined Lincoln Street,  Rose Avenue, all the way to the funeral home.  Your allegiance to my son’s life meant so much.

I understand there were flags everywhere in the community. Flags were flown at halfmast in honor of my son. Thank you everyone.

The ride to the cemetery is something I will never forget. There were flags and people along the whole route. Children, elderly....I even saw a couple of bull dogs – the Marines mascot. Huge flags, small flags, children holding signs, people with their hands on their hearts, people saluting….

There were even flags on the fence around the cemetery.

Thanks to the VFW who welcomed our Marines and us and treated us so kindly, opening their doors to us.

Thank you to Pastor Eric Kilborn, Kirsten and Free Life Church. Thank you to Pastor Ron Lee, Kathy and E-Free Church. To Pastor Joe Berry and Sharlyn for commemorating Caleb on your churchsign. Thank you to Pastor Bill Viergutz and Daphne, Jon Reevers and Jenny, Doctor Jason Barnes and Amy – we are all the body of Christ. We were humbled and blessed by all you have done for us.

Thank you to all who came to our home and helped make things easier just by being here. Thank you for all the food, paper goods, and the many beautiful flowers and plants.

Thank you to all who called and for all the prayers. I know they have helped tremendously.

Thank you to Burlington High School – Superintendent Tom Satterly, thank you for working with us. Thank you to all the teachers who took part in helping make things go smoothly for the service-Eileen Jones, Andy Salvador, Russell Gramm, Steve Poet and his class, Miss Yowell and her class. Thank you Judy Rainbolt for watching out for us. Thank you Mason Witzel, MacKenzie Reeverts and Jon Reeverts for decorating the halls in red, white and blue.

Thank you to the students who lined the halls, and silently and respectfully stood, while the Marine Honor Guard brought our flag draped casket to the gym.

Thank you to Mason Witzel, Hudson Lee, Adily Hendricks, and MacKenzie Reeverts for videoing and taking pictures. Thank you Susan Corliss for taking pictures  as well. These will be priceless treasures for us in years to come. You all are wonderful. We go way back and you all are like family.

Thank you to the Police and Sheriff Departments and the Patriot Guard for having our backs and taking care of business.

Thank you Bryan Russell for working with us. Thank you for standing with us and making decisions on our behalf concerning the media.

 Gratitude fills my heart. Words don’t seem adequate. I am honored to be part of a caring, patriotic community. There is something about grassroots America, farm country - and her heart for our military, and our country.

Our Marine family was overwhelmed by the support our community paid to Caleb. “You don’t see this hardly anywhere, anymore.” Many of the Marines present have been to funerals of other fallen Marines. They had never seen such an outpouring of support and love.

We have been in touch with our Recon Marine family, and they continue to tell us how meaningful being here was. Those who couldn’t come have asked how everything was here. Our Recon Marines tell them about a community who showed their respect for Caleb, and for our country. To these men, it gives hope for our nation

 The memories you lent to these Recon Marines will stay with them a lifetime. You stood for what they fight for, for what they are willing to lay down their lives for.

Thank you to all who came to Caleb’s service to celebrate his life. We wanted to share the Caleb we knew. He loved his God, his family and his country. He filled our lives with laughter and challenged us to be more than we thought we could be– not by what he said, but by how he lived.

We plan on continuing to live that challenge.

I am proud and blessed to stand for that freedom, and am grateful to be part of a community willing to stand and honor a man who knew that freedom wasn’t free.

Caleb gave all.

God bless you all.

 Again, thank you.

Caleb Medley’s family – George and Diane Homm, Nathan, Josiah, Collen Medley, Melanie and Marshall Thomas

The Write Corner/ A Writer's Explanation

I didn't know I was different.


It's ok if you're thinking you've known that for a long time.

"Writers have stories going through their heads all the time. What a strange bunch."
The author was talking to a room of writers.

At every writer's conference I've been to, I've met some very nice people.
Everybody looked pretty normal.
Yet, I heard we were different.
We had stories in our minds.
What seemed odd to me was the thought of people with empty heads -
What, no stories?
How could it be.

I pondered it for quite a while.
But, I had to know
.
One evening after a quiet dinner,
while we were relaxing, watching TV,
I asked my husband, "Do you have stories going on in your head?"

He looked at me, like I'd said, "I've been thinking.
I think I'll grow another head, how about you, don't you want another head?"

He answered, "Ah, no."

I couldn't believe it, so I asked again.
"You don't think of stories as you're driving somewhere, or walking through the grocery store?"

I got the same, "Ah, no."

I was shocked.

I told him how when we stop at red lights, I have a whole story about the person in the car next to us.
When we walk through the mall, I watch people and imagine their stories.
It's what I've always done.

He said, "No wonder you get so tired. Your brain never rests."
Maybe he's right.

My first writer's conference was five years ago.
I've gone to several more since then.
I've met some fascinating people.
It's been wonderful.
We're like family, a lot of us.

It's great.
We get together and talk about those invisible people.
We visit about the murder that happened,
the characters who got married, or left in a huff.

Recently, one of my characters died.
I was so sad, I cried.
I didn't know he was going to die.
My friends understood.
They had experienced similar episodes with their characters.

Writing cuts you off from interacting with real people while you're developing the characters wanting out - the story bursting to be written.

We spend a lot of time in our little corners.
But, it's what we're called to do.
It's part of who we are.

Growing up I enjoyed the musical, Cinderella.
I would imagine with Cinderella as she sang, "In MyOwn Little Corner."

During the past five years I have spent many hours in my little corner,
with gunslingers, detectives, immigrants from the 1860s, soldiers from the Civil War,
and it's all been normal
to me.

I don't know about the rest of the world,
but I know I have friends in my corner.
Some I can see.
Some I can't.

It's good to know
I'm in good company.
After all,
What is normal, anyway.

Have a good day in your own little corner.

 

In My Own Little Corner, sung by Julie Andrews (1957)

Friends

Friends.
We walked in the rain. Drenched. Laughing till we cried.
We ran through leaves in the park, and drove through the country
with the windows down, singing at the top of our lungs.
We sat in the quiet, feeling each other's pain at a friend's funeral.
We shared in the joy of each other's victories, and accomplishments.

You are my friend.
We probably don't see each other every day.
Some of us haven't seen each other in years.
But, the bond that brought us together years ago is just as strong.

Some of us made mudpies together, and played hide-n-seek in the dark.
Some of us played Barbies and roller skated together.
We may have ridden bikes, and spent nights giggling when we should have been sleeping.

There are memories only we share.
The time we drove out of town and your dad had to drive hours to come rescue us.
Or when you helped plan my sixteenth surprise birthday party - how hard you tried to get me there, and I wouldn't cooperate.
Remember how we would meet on the corner under the street light, to exchange clothes and notes?
Or when we watched The Way We Were, and then thought, "We drove out of town for that?!"

We may have danced together, and spent hours working on college publications, or going over lab notes.
Maybe we were the geeks who decided to study when our friends kept knocking on our door inviting us to join the dorm party right outside our room.
Or maybe you were the one who told me I didn't have the flu....it was the fruit wine.
(I said I'd never do that again!)
Friends,
We shared secrets, and knew they were safe.
Sure, we had our moments when we didn't see eye to eye.
But, we always got past those times.

Here we are.


It's been a lifetime now.
We moved on, and married, and worked, and had our separate lives.
We diapered our children, loved, and cheered them on in every endeavor they pursued.
We watched as they drove off to college, got married.
Some have children of their own.

We may have met later in life.
Maybe after a move.
In a new town, or a new direction.
Maybe we text, facebook, write, call, or sit and visit.
Maybe we have lunch every now and then.
Maybe we fly, and drive to see each other.
Or maybe we don't see each other at all.

But, you live in my heart forever,
because you are a part of my life.

Michael W. Smith writes, "A friend's a friend forever."
It's true.
A lifetime's not too long to live as friends.

To all my friends through all my life,
I thank God for every remembrance of you.

Happy Valentine's Day.

From The Inside/A Baby's Story

It was a whisper at first, soft and soothing.
It was beautiful.
I knew it was the sound of love.


When I heard her laughter.
It tickled, and I rolled and tumbled
with joy.

I know, I'm not supposed to know much.
But, I do.
Even before I was formed, Almighty knew me.
He has plans for me.
I can't wait!

Sometimes I hear a voice that makes her cry.
It makes me sad.
I wish there was something I could do to tell her
I love her.
I feel so bad when she cries.

She was somewhere today.
Voices were low, but firm.
She doesn't know I can hear them, but I can.
"Tissue...."
"Nothing..."
"Your choice...."
When the voices said, "It's your life, not a big deal, It'll be over in no time. "
I perked up.
Maybe the voice that made her cry will go away.
Then, I heard her say, "But, it's a baby. I know it is. How can I kill my baby?"
The voices piped in, laughing. "You've been deceived. There is no baby. It's just a mass of tissue.
No one will ever know. You'll walk out of here free to go on with your life." "The father won't support you, you said. How will you raise a child alone?" "You're young, successful. You don't need this burden right now."

I sank back the best I could.
Who would say such things to her?

She started crying. She had never cried so hard.
Then, I felt her hand on her tummy. How do I know a hand? I just do. I'm smarter than I look.
The pressure was so reassuring, so comforting to me.
I hated when she cried.
I just wanted her to be happy.
I wanted to make her happy, to see her smile, to be able to touch her, and see her face to face.

"What are you going to do?" The vocies sounded irritated. "We need to know." "We care about you. We're not trying to pressure you, but you do need to decide." "It's a simple procedure, Sweetie."

How could someone call her sweetie and make her cry?

"I don't know," she said through her tears. "I need time."

"Ok. You can come back anytime." The voices said.

"Any time? Won't it be too late, later?" She sobbed.

"Oh no. We can remove the tissue clear into the last trimester." "Any time is fine. You think about it, and come back."

Eventually, she stopped crying.
I fell asleep...till  I felt her hand again.

This time there were familiar angry voices.
"What will people think?"
"It will ruin us."

"It's my life," she said, still rubbing her tummy.
"It's my choice. That's what they said.
I won't kill my baby."

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's NOT a baby!"

"I know that's what everybody is telling me. But, something inside is telling me it's wrong.
That's all I know."

"Then, I'll disown you," one voice said.
"Then, it's over, don't expect anything from me," another voice said.

Silence.
"Then, I guess you can walk away." She wasn't crying any more.

A different voice visited with her later.
"You have the right, you know. It is your body."

"I know," she said. "But having the right doesn't make it right."

Later, I felt her hand on her tummy.
"Hey Baby, I don't know if you can hear me," She said. "You and I are going to be all right.
I love you. I'm going to take care of you."

I sighed. I don't know if she felt it, but I was so glad to hear her voice, and to know she loved me,
I did somersaults, and backflips, kicking my feet as high as I could.

Then, I heard her laugh.
"I felt a kick! I did. My baby kicked!"

I'm so glad she's happy.
I can't wait to see her face.

To Lori/Cloud Baskets Will Carry Us

One of God's miracles for moms is His grace.
It has to be, otherwise how would we cope?

We carry little bundles of life for nine months,
and get to know them before the world ever sees them.
We are so overcome with love for them -
our lives change forever.
Life is not about us anymore.

It's no wonder when it's time for them to leave our nest, we struggle.
Our nature has been to care for, nurture, and be an integral part of their lives.
It seems unnatural, yet we know it's the way it's supposed to be.

I remember when each of my five got ready to leave, I had a hard time.
I knew life would change once again.
One time a person said to me, "Well, it's not so hard for you - you still have more at home."
Each one was hard because each child is a unique, individual miracle.

The hardest was when my son enlisted in the military during wartime.
I didn't know how moms coped with that.
It was way beyond me.
I couldn't be there for him, see, or talk to him.
He couldn't come home on weekends, or holdidyas, or anytime he wanted.
Whack - the mom heartstring was ripped, severed, shredded, just like that.

God did some awesome things before he left, but I'll leave that for another time.
I left him at the airport with his recruiter and a line of other recruits, and cried all the way home.
I told God I didn't know how I was going to do it.
It was like my heart had been ripped apart.

As I drove, there was a moment when sudden peace came over me.
It was like a big cloud surrounded me....
God assured me He would carry me through.
And He did.
A day at a time.

A sweet lady I know is sending her son off to college after spending the last six months caring and praying for his recovery from a bad accident.
Reading her post brought me to tears.
It is hard to let go.


I thought I'd given my children to God.
And I had.
But, the deeper giving came
when it was so hard not to worry......
when they're away from home, and you can't be there for them.

We can lean on God, and know that there is no distance between Him,
our children, and our prayers.
Whether they are close to home or half way around the world,
we can have comfort in knowing where they are, He is.

For us moms.
His grace is as big as we need it to be,
right when we need it.

To this sweet lady ~
I know this is not an easy time for you, because of all you've been through.
Isaiah 41:10 ~ Don't be afraid, for I am with you.
Don't be discouraged, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you.
I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.

For her and her son ~
Jeremiah 29:11 ~"I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord.
They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."


Our love and prayers for both of you.

Back To The Future

Hang on! Wait just a minute!

Is it time already?

The time to let go of 2012 is at hand.

Remember Back To The Future in 1985 when 2012 seemed so far away?

 

Where were you in
1985?
It kind of makes me chuckle. I can see my long, spiral-permed big hair, leggings, big shoulder pad sweaters....my little daughter and I had matching outfits - pink, teal and yellow sweaters (hers didn't have the shoulder pads), yellow leggings, and pink high-top tennis shoes.
No laughing here - we were cool.

I lived in Walsenburg Colorado, had three small children (one born in Februray.) The Sangre De Cristo Mountains were beyond my front door, and our drinking water came from La Veta Pass.

I was young then, and naive.

2012
I live in a rural community on the Colorado plains...no mountains in view.
My five children are grown up now. My youngest just graduated from college.
I'm married to a rancher...we have fresh well water to drink at the ranch.

I'm not as naive as I was in '85...well in some ways I'm not.
It's hard to imagine that it's been twenty-seven years.

I'd like to go back to 1985 and visit that young girl, enlighten her a little, change some things, like Marty McFly did in Back To The Future,  but then again - I guess I had to go through the stuff I went through to get where I am now.

Looking back, there have been
tears, and laughter,
joy and sorrow,
endings and new beginnings,
valleys and mountaintops,
celebrations, and solemnity.
It is the way of life.

At a time when there is so much changing in our world,
there is One who changes not.
I made a list while I was thinking about the past twenty-seven years of my life.

This is what I came up with....
~No matter how dark things get, God is deeper still (Corrie TenBoom said that.)
~God loves me unconditionally - even when I don't think I deserve it
~God is truly Jerhovah Jireh, my provider
~He makes a way where there doesn't seem to be a way
~God never fails, and is always right on time
~He takes care of His children, always
~God's grace is as big as we need it to be when we need it to be
~God is still in the healing business
~God takes broken people/hearts and makes them new
~God is the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow (important)
~He can be trusted

At the end of every year I am thankful for the opportunity to welcome in a new year.
Another chance to begin again,
to embrace life,
to dream and follow those dreams.

In this new year, may His peace fill our hearts, and minds in accordance to His Word - no matter what goes on around us.

I like what Eccliastes 3:1-15 says. It is one of my favorite songs
by The Byrds.
To everything there is a season.

Ok, back to the future -

 

 

 

 

 

May 2013 be a blessed year! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “I have given Him my faith, and sworn my allegiance to Him; how, then, can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor?” (The Pilgrim's Progress)