The Truth

Most of the times I hear a term like "an insider", I'm reading the back cover of a thriller novel or hearing that deep voice of the movie trailer announcer. So my brain started processing the term anew when I heard it this week about CSM Bolyard and his death in Afghanistan.

In case you're curious, there's a weird balance maintained by military families during a time as trying as this. Morbid curiosity is a no-go...yet, we are all thinking about it. Why did it happen? How? Who of our friends are affected by such a horrible loss? 

I watch my friends cry.

I hug them, knowing their life will never be the same...because they have lost a friend, a husband, a colleague.

But I don't cry out there. I didn't know this hero. I have only heard about him secondhand or read about him online, like every one else. My tears come later, and they are for the greater loss that our country experiences every time we lose a member of our Armed Forces. They are for my husband who will be deployed again. For the Gold Star families who have already started rebuilding and moving on. 

The more I hear about CSM Bolyard... that he was 42, getting ready to retire, a family man...a true United States hero...

Killed by an insider. 

After reading that and thinking on it for a day, I finally asked my husband, "What does that mean? He was killed by one of our own?" Isn't that what insider means? Do I even want to know?

It means that someone, who our troops were there to help and train, came in and gave us the middle finger. [those aren't my husband's words; they are mine] CSM Bolyard is the 154th person killed by an insider attack since 2007.

I stared at my husband for a second and then asked, "Why are we even over there?" I know what this means now. It means that none of our soldiers are safe, ever. What 'friendly' will be the next to turn? In what month? At which Base? How can I let you go, knowing you might not come back?

"Politics." His words. "We train them. We give them arms; they take them and give them to ISIS." They don't understand the world like we do, with peace as an ending solution. They want us all dead.

"So, why are we over there?" I ask again. And he shrugs. He too struggles to understand such hate. Are we protecting innocence and freedom? Are we fighting the injustice of the world? For him, the answers are simpler. He serves his country; he demands a better life for his home and for the world. He wants women to be respected. He wants children to be loved. He wants the elderly to be honored. In every culture. And he wants peace... 

For me, the answers are wrapped up in emotions and turmoil and more questions. And tears. For my sister Army spouse, who suffers the loss. For our country, who has lost its focus and finds value in Political Correctness instead of Truth. 

And it makes me think about Truth. The truth of knowing our world will never see peace until we surrender to the God who created us all. Until every man, woman, and child knows the salvation of the cross, our world will suffer from sin.

And all we can do is get up in the morning and love one another. Be the light in a dark world. Share the burden of our loved ones. And pray. 

For Peace. For Change. For Life. 

Sending prayers for the Bolyard family. Timothy Bolyard, you and your family are in my calendar, and we will never forget. Rest in Peace.

With Love,

Victory!

This post will be slightly cultural, political, and definitely controversial. I can only say that today because of what Facebook has done to our world. I know everything that everyone is thinking...it seems. I know what all the experts are saying because articles often show up in my newsfeed. Politics is there in full force as well... and it's often a very left-wing point of view. And though my thoughts aren't political in nature, the tides of society wash away our right to think and have opinions so that even the simplest of topics becomes political. 

I have the cutest son in the whole word: Examples:

About six to ten months ago, he stopped saying the S in words where the S was followed by a consonant. So stop had become 'top' and scooter was 'cooter' and so on. The speculation began...could he hear well? Did he have a speech impediment? Were we seeing the start to something else? Only wait, I didn't quite do that speculating. I never took him to the doctor or therapist. I wasn't ready to jump on the Diagnosis Bandwagon. 

He was a three-year-old, learning to talk and communicate with his family. And lots of three-year-olds have the cutest little speech quirks. 

Well, this morning he woke up and joined us in bed, and for the first time since it all started, he talked about it. "I can't say s'ake," he said with a frown. And his dad and I looked at each other. "That's okay," I said. And then he started practicing words. "S-nnnake." We told him good job, as he went through his list of words, "Snake, Scooter, Stop, Store,..." He still struggled with the 'SM' words, like smell, but for some reason... and I guess it's true, the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one ...he started saying the words correctly. 

The incident made me stop and really think about how people are so ready to diagnosis and fix things that might not need fixing. My friend had a doctor tell her that her two-year-old daughter had anxiety because she wouldn't go to strangers. Anxiety. ANXIETY! What in ever-loving-hell? We want to label everything when sometimes, we just have to sit back and let live. I think, if the speech hadn't returned in another year at some point, I might have started digging and considering ways to help him. But, we have to remember that kids are all different! They are all beautifully made. Sometimes the standards don't apply to our children. Sometimes they are behind the standard or beyond the standard. 

And sometimes a quirk is just a quirk. Do we need to fix all our quirks? I say the word "fire" with two syllables...as most people from the Midwest do. As all of my sisters do.  "Fi-er." My husband used to stutter, still does on occasion. 

Why does our society insist on fixing our differences? If we don't like to be around people, why do we have anxiety? It could just be that we prefer solitude. If we are temperamental, fiesty, or angry, why do we need to be on mood-changing medications? If we have a hard time sitting still... you get the idea. 

I'm 41. I've been a parent for almost 19 of those years, and I'm dismayed by the use of medications in our culture. From infants through teenage years, there is a horrifying trend to medicate and fix something that is normal. :( 

I've had a year like that this year, and I come to the end of this school year even more convicted to rely on my instincts rather than the studies and advice of doctors. Life is NOT easy, but we have community and God to share our burdens, IF we are willing to tap into them. 

So, this post is a cheer!! Yay Jack for being so cute and walking around saying 'cooter' and 'pot' for the last six months. We absolutely LOVED your quirk and we'll remember it and talk about it to your girlfriend someday. 

Hope you all have an amazing Memorial Day Weekend.

Prayers for the souls of all those who lost their lives serving our country.

With Love,

Secret Ballot

I really wish people took secret ballot seriously.
I know I'm my own worst enemy by joining places like Facebook and Google+ or whatever it is...twitter, but I don't really care what you vote. I don't want to know what you vote. I don't want to hear how you think I believe a bunch of lies.

I like you.

I don't need to know your politics to know I like you and we can get along. We have things in common.

This is me, once again, sick of election year. Avoiding the news, avoiding--as much as possible--social media. Trying with all my heart to remember that my right to choose includes my political stance.

Hope you're all having a good week.
With Love,
Bethanne