A stroll down memory lane...

A brief mini-vacation of sorts back home to Ft. Walton Beach, FL last week. Regrettably, the trigger was a gathering of HS classmates in memory of a couple of us who passed away recently. Still, it was a good trip for me.

A few Jimmy Buffett lines, followed by some pics with brief (I promise!!) commentary on each.

Still I sit in contemplation, and I just don't understand
This mysterious attraction of this salty piece of land
Still I search the constellations and the tiny grains of sand
Where the song of the ocean meets the salty piece of land

Whoa, lookin' back at my background tryin' to figure out how I ever got here
Some things are still a mystery to me while others are much too clear

I know I don't get there often enough
But God knows I surely try
It's a magic kind of medicine
That no doctor could prescribe
But there's this one particular harbor
So far but yet so near
Where I see the days as they fade away
Finally disappear
But there's this one particular harbor
Sheltered from the wind
Where the children play on the shore each day
And all are safe within
A most mysterious calling harbor
So far but yet so near
Where I can see the day when my hair's full gray
And I finally disappear

I wanna be there
wanna go back down and lie beside the sea there...
Yeah now, the sun goes slidin' 'cross the water
Sailboats they go searchin' for the breeze
Salt air it ain't thin
It can stick right to your skin and make you feel fine
Makes you feel fine ...

Kathy, Judy & I went to nursery school, kindergarten, & 2nd - 12th grades together. They both still live down there. (Irony alert: Kathy's a USM grad, as is her Mom the Purvis native...) Judy was the ringleader of making this particular gathering happen.

Ronnie & Patti Ward. Patti & I were in band together from 7th - 12th grade. Great folks! Patti & I were the only two 7th graders who made marching band as 7th graders; in her case because of talent...in mine, because I'm Jim's little brother...I'll take it! *smile*

Sunset on the bayou behind Scully's, where the gathering was last Wed. night. Love it!

Erin, Patti, & Tammie. Erin & I were classmates from 2nd through 12th. Tammie is one of the ringleaders of our full class reunions.

Bev, Judy, & Cathy. They were great friends of the lady from our class who passed away recently. Bev works w/ TBS in GA. Small world alert: Cathy's younger sis & sis's hubby were our Sunday School teachers when Lisa & I were newly married.

Remembering...

Vicky & Patti. Vicky is one of 4 (2 pairs of sisters) that Jim & I have known almost all of our lives. Vicky's Mom taught with my Mom & they remain great & close friends. *best Ron White delivery* "We've met..."

Judy & Joe drink a toast to absent classmate Connie. Small world alert: 1) Joe lives not far from here in Franklinton, LA; 2) his daughter plays softball for the USM Golden Eagles!

Some of the gang...

Cathy & Sharon

Sunset almost complete

Roberta, Vicky, Ronnie, Patti

Nightfall

I need to live where one can drive one's boat to the restaurant for dinner...

Vicky again.

Kathy & Cathy. Kathy (left) is a fellow cancer survivor. Brain cancer 3+ years ago...

Patti again, after dark.

We moved it inside. Tammie, Cathy, Judy, Bev. Bev's expecting grandkid #3 this Fall! I told her we were *far* too young for such things... *grin*

Roberta & Allison. (Sorry 'bout those eyes!) Allison directs the chorus program @ one of the local colleges there.

I still miss him hard almost every day, but then we've covered that before in this space. (My brother Jim is "James E., Jr.")

Choctawhatchee High School! Go Big Green! Me & 690 friends graduated from here in 1977. In my day, it was a very good HS. Good academics, decent sports, great arts programs...and a lot of fun! On balance, this was a very good time of life for me, despite some serious heartache (see the previous pic...). I'm thankful for this place & for friends & teachers & lessons learned...

OK, CHS grads...remember any of these?

--Mr. Jones the awesome band director who also had a huge impact on me that continues until now?

--Mr. Sills the great asst. band director?

--Mrs. Almond, the greatest math teacher ever? Our Sr. year was her 44th year of teaching, and she was as sharp as a tack. She had a tremendous impact on me, even after HS days when she was retired & I was being an idiot. Lona Almond is what I instantly picture when anyone uses the phrase "unconditional love"...I drank several gallons of lemonade & ate many plates of cookies while pouring out my stupidity out on her. And not one time did I ever feel the slightest hint of condemnation.

Drove past her house today. At which point, my allergies acted up...or something. What a treasure she was!

--"Mama Jo" Yeager, the greatest speech & drama teacher ever? I have recently re-connected with her on facebook, which is just very cool. Her Oral Comm. class was the 1st time I realized that I was fairly comfortable speaking in front of a group. (Note: I didn't say "good"...I said "comfortable"! *smile*)

--Mrs. Preble's French class?

--Mr. Earle's Algebra II?

--Mr. Beck's chemistry? (I'll be nice & say "I have nothing further to say at this time")

--Mr. Kyzer?

--Mr. Brown the principal?

The pressbox: "Home of the Indians"

The field.

The band usually sat down there toward the fieldhouse. We used to "snake" in single file, with zig-zags, 270-degree spins, etc. Thought it was pretty cool then, & still think so now.

The bandroom was just inside this door on the rt.

The parking lot practice field. Tues & Thurs nights for a couple of hours or more, all summer long, & during the Fall too.

Pretty cool band logo, huh? We were the "Style Marchers" (by durn!) ;-{)}

Big Green Indians, baby!

Front of the School.

Clifford Meigs Jr. High. 7th - 9th grades. It, too, was a pretty good jr. high in my day. (May still be...I have no contact there now) Band. Jazz band. Had to ride the bus (for the only 3 years in my educational career!) & didn't particularly care for it, especially as a tiny 7th grader. It was somewhat better when I was a tiny 9th grader...

Any of you fellow Meigs alums remember these folks?

--Mr. Denton - 2nd best math teacher ever!

--Mr. Varner, the awesome band director...who had a gigantic impact on me that continues now.

--Mr. Lathinghouse's English class? I still remember him walking us through Paul Simon's "I Am A Rock" which, come to think of it, was a significant turning point in my huge appreciation of the power of words.

--Mr. Smith the principal? (another friend of Mom's...and one of Bear Bryant's first quarterbacks @ Bama, I found out later). He gave me the only paddling...er...paddlings I ever received. Swung a pretty good paddle, as I recall... (oops! I just confessed to Mom that Mr. Smith had to whip me...perhaps the statue of limitations has run out by now...)

Meigs again.
Learned how to march 8:5 style on this field. (Meigs stadium)
In my day, we were the "Wildcats" not just a "wildcat" *smile*

Poquito Bayou. I spent a *lot* of time here skiing & tubing & such back in the day behind friends' boats. My good friends Doug & Mark both lived near here & both let me hang out w/ them. Mark had an *awesome* ski boat, but even with that and his expert help, I was still just an average skier.

The playground @ Annette P. Edwins Elementary School. Went here in 1st grade. In my day, Annette P. Edwins was still the principal there!
"APE School" as we called it.
On the left is the location of Madaris Office Supplies. (James E. Madaris, Prop.)
Ferry Park Across from Elliott Pt. Elementary School, a short bike ride from home. Played a thousand pickup baseball games there, & quite a number of football games. It's what kids' sports were before the parents all went totally insane about what kids' sports should be. Great times...

Elliott Pt. Elementary School. Went to 2nd thru 6th there, & Mom was the librarian. (The school opened my 2nd grade year, which means Mom was the first-ever librarian). It was a great elementary school (mostly) in my day.

Anyone of my fellow EPE alums remember Ms. Fagan who became Mrs. Sirmans? I was in her first-ever class she taught (4th grade). Mrs. Sullivan? Mrs. Gunter? Mrs. Darner? How about Mrs. Littlefield? Mrs. Pope? Mr. Bowen the principal?

Ferry Park Tennis courts. Played a thousand tennis matches there. Public courts that were/are pretty well-maintained.

The practice wall @ Ferry Park. I hit a million tennis balls against this back in the day.
And of course, there's Mom & Leo's place. The live oaks that were so awesome for climbing are now rather large. The one that was the goal line in our front-yard football games now blocks the field out to about the 30 yard line...

Mom & Leo's again. I had a tree fort of sorts in the middle one once upon a time.
The new dock @ the back of Mom & Leo's coming from the seawall into the Bay. Regrettably, my dip in the Bay was lightning'ed out. Oh well...next time...
Mom & Leo's from the back of the lawn by the Bay looking toward the house. The old tennis court has seen better days...
An *amazing* rainbow behind Mom's. (more pics of this below)
There's one pot of gold out in the Bay...

And there are both ends of the 'bow. The right end is on Destin somewhere.

And the beaches themselves. Have mercy! I only cried for a little while this day when I sat out on the beach at sunset...I am absolutely convinced that Heaven will contain white sand beaches with waves & seagulls. I can't wait! But in the mean time, times like this evening's beach time will have to suffice.

Dad & I--very average fishermen that we were--caught a number of king & spanish mackeral from this pier back in the day.
My piggies where they belong...the white sand beaches of NW FL!
Sand in my shoes...which means that I'll have to keep returning to these beaches. I'm beyond OK with that! *smile*
Sunset on the beach...

Good waves this day...I was *sorely* tempted to show those amateurs how to properly catch & ride a wave, but dusk = "feeding time"...a singularly bad time to be out in the Gulf...

My piggies in another place they belong...in the Gulf of Mexico!

I also drove past this Bingo parlor that I seem to recall. Victor's it was called back in the day...and it wasn't a Bingo parlor.... Busted many a move there, & first learned how to play backgammon. (And "Shining Star" by Earth, Wind, & Fire is still the best dance song ever...with "Brick House" by the Commodores as a close 2nd...) Then there's this small plot of grass out on the island that stands as an empty reminder of this place where we used to congregate. "Hog's Breath is better than no breath at all"...still one of the great marketing slogans ever. Across the street was the Sand Flea restaurant, which is fairly irrelevant, except for the time I spent in the "Top of the Flea" um, social gathering place. There was this great solo guitar picker/singer who frequented the place. Through him, I grew to really love the music of Jimmy Buffett & Jerry Jeff Walker & the like.

Neither Victor's, the Hog's Breath Saloon, nor the Top of the Flea are still there. Actually, I think Hog's Breath is still around somewhere in the area.

But the house on Bay Drive is still there...and the Bay's still out back...and Mom's still there...and the beaches are still as white as ever just across the bridge. And I have a million memories all over town. I am so very blessed to come from such a place. And from such people.

Truly, the bb

A Patriotic Confusion

So, July 4 always sparks multiple thoughts & emotions in me. And a bit of confusion (or maybe "concern") as well.

First, tremendous patriotism. I am so thankful to be of long American ancestral heritage that actually pre-dates our Revolutionary war. I cherish the freedoms we have as Americans to succeed (and to fail!) based on our individual gifts & dreams. I honor those through the ages who have fought and died in the defense of the idea(l) of America and freedom. I am so very proud to be the brother of a Navy veteran (pilot), the son of an Army Air Corps veteran of two wars, the grandson of a WW1 doughboy...there are Civil War vets & KIAs back there in the family tree, along w/ War of 1812 home guard leaders. Plus, as of last November, I'm the stepson of a decorated Vietnam-era fighter pilot. There are also teachers, professors, politicians, farmers, Drs., lawyers,...

A grad school classmate from Iraq told me back in the mid-80s, "you guys should read your founding documents regularly...there's nobody in my country who has even begun to think at that level about government and freedom..."

Note: I am well aware that our 230ish-year-history contains some stains. Slavery & women's rights, to name two huge ones. But I also celebrate the fact that our country was created with a self-correcting government that--with time and a brutal war--fixed the slavery problem, and with the built-in provision for constitutional amendments fixed the women's suffrage problem. Are we perfect? Nope. Never have been. Never will be. But ours is a mighty good nation.

Interested in civil rights as a member of a minority group? Better stay here. Check the status of minority groups in many countries around the world. As I say, better stay here.

Like to gripe about government & those running it? You should particularly stick around. Anyone remember Tianamen square 20 years ago?

Want the freedom to worship...or not...according to the dictates of your own conscience & intellect without being told how, when, & where? I'd stay.

Want to have a say in your own government & who sits in the seats of power? I'd *definitely* stay.

Don't like kings? 8 years, max.

This is a great and blessed nation.

Having said that, July 4th always brings out this one significant nagging concern that I've never quite been able to get a handle on. On the one hand, clearly God has blessed us and given us much to celebrate and to be thankful to Him for providing. But on the other hand, for decades now...perhaps even centuries?...I fear we have confused incredible political structures & ideas & freedoms with being THE object of God's love & favor. We Christians have all too frequently commingled America's progress with God's work in the world.

Ken Myers described it this way in a podcast I listened to recently: (severely paraphrased) we have decided that America's culture & progress & such is God's work, and our role as the Church is simply to act as chaplain, finding ways to bless & encourage our culture & progress. (As I say, a substantial paraphrase there, but it captures his point, which is mine too).

Let me state it this way:

God is FAR greater & grander than America, and is doing amazing things all around the world. He was doing incredible things long before there was such a thing as America the nation. He is UTTERLY NOT bound by American labels & priorities. He is NOT working solely within the confines of the Republican party, nor those of the Democratic party. He is doing His deal, and to the extent that we as a nation honor Him and His work, I believe he will bless us. But do not be mistaken--He does NOT need America!! It is a very small god who relies on just the one particular nation--ours or any other--or just the one political party to accomplish his purposes on earth. (note carefully: "relies on"...)


Tony Evans, an African-American pastor in inner-city Dallas, said it this way...Republicans think the Kingdom of God is arriving on Air Force One; Democrats think the Kingdom of God is coming via the next social program...God does not need elephants nor donkeys to transport Him around & accomplish His purposes! (paraphrase ends)

And then there's this concern, which is sort of the opposite of the previous concern. There are those who suggest that true patriotism is expressly NOT celebrating the country's heritage, and definitely not celebrating anything Christians nor political conservatives have done. The military is tolerated so long as the military objective is deemed pure & noble, which endeavors constitute a significant minority of military engagements. Pretty much neither Iraq nor Afghanistan qualify.

This is the "spit-on-returning-soldiers" crowd. Agree with their politics completely & without reservation, or you're a blinded scumbag not worthy of the ideas of the country, & especially not worthy of our political freedoms and especially not worthy of freedom of expression & being heard.

(To be sure, that last sentence goes in both directions, but for whatever reason, I've heard it more frequently from the "spit-on-soldiers" crowd.)

My challenge to non-Christians this week:
Recognize that with all of our flaws, we are a greatly blessed nation. Which, of course, requires a "bless-or" *smile* Also, recognize the good that Christians do and that Christianity has done throughout our history. Spotty, to be sure, but that's because Christianity is carried out by flawed, sinful people who get things wrong at times...sometimes badly wrong. People like me...But sometimes, we get things right too. (see "abolition of slavery")

My challenge to Christians this week:
Be thankful to God for blessing us and giving us freedom. But do not conflate "America" with "God's Kingdom". There are multiple accounts in Scripture of peoples who have done that with their own nations, and it always ends badly. Also, recognize the good that non-Christians do & have done throughout our history. Spotty, to be sure...because that worldview, too, is populated by flawed, sinful people who get things wrong at times. "And such were you"... In the midst of the fireworks and patriotic songs & celebrations, my challenge is more aimed at us Christians to take great care not to equate "America" or "American Power & Wealth" with "Christianity" or with "THE Kingdom of God". Let us strive together for the perspective of Moses in his last words to Israel before His passing:

There is none like God, O Jeshurum, Who rides through the heavens to your help, through the skies in His majesty. The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms...
So Israel lived in safety...
Deuteronomy 33:26-28


My challenge to ALL:
Challenge your own political convictions & beliefs about America. Test them. Hold fast to what is good, and be prepared to adapt what needs adapting. And never make the mistake again of demonizing all who happen to disagree with your politics. I realize that's the M.O. of modern politics, but I also realize that I'm dang tired of it. (A lawyer joke, adapted: isn't it sad how 98% of politicians give the rest of them a bad name? *rimshot*)

Happy Independence Day! America is great! God is greater!
bb

He would be 82 if he were still here...

He would have just celebrated his 55th wedding anniversary.

He would’ve been a pa-in-law for over 25 years now.

A grandpa for 23 years.

I ‘spect he’d have retired from the daily operation of his business a while back. But I also ‘spect he’d be one of those guys John Piper writes of who never retired from serving others and from ministry in & through the church.

I wonder if he would still be so dashingly handsome as he was at 20. Or 35. Or 47. (Don’t know beyond that, for 47 is as old as he ever was.). Somehow, I think he probably would be.

I also wonder where his travel bug would’ve taken him by now. When he left this world, he was planning a trip to Australia. Man, would that have been a fun one…

I wonder if he would still be teaching the 3-year-old Sunday School class. Somehow, I think he probably would be.

Here are some things I am quite certain would be true were he still here...

He would still be a big Bama football fan, as he was all 47 years of his life. I’m pretty sure he’d have gone to the Sugar Bowl this past January, and despite the complete thrashing the Tide received, he’d still have worn his Crimson wear proudly. And would still be wearing it proudly now; his love of & support of his team never depended on a win-loss record (a concept that should be re-discovered in our day...)

Having that said, he would also be a Gator fan since his oldest grandchild will graduate from UF this August. And he would be an FSU fan since grandson #2 attended there. And he’d definitely be an Ole Miss fan since his 3rd grandson attends there. In fact, cancel the Sugar Bowl attendance; he might well have joined his younger son and youngest grandson in Dallas for the Cotton Bowl. He would’ve worn some sort of “Ole Miss Grandpa” shirt and/or hat, and would’ve been as pumped about how the game unfolded as his son & grandson were. And, he already be asking for some Miss State wear & tickets since grandchild #4—the older granddaughter—will be attending there this Fall. Oh, no doubt he’d still love the Tide, but because he would love his grandkids more, he’d wear the UM, UM, MSU, & FSU shirts proudly. (He’d also be a USM fan since his younger son taught there for a while, and a Miami fan since his older son graduated from there).

To him—and this lesson seems to be all-too-frequently lost these days (including in the community in which I live)—a relationship would be FAR more important than a college sports allegiance. He was the master of cheering for his team without denigrating yours, and without ridiculing your choice of team. Another concept that seems lost in our society--and in the community in which I live--these days.

Relatedly, he would be one of those grandpas that the grandkids adore and can’t seem to spend enough time around. They—the grandkids—would doubtless know the lyrics to several Hank Williams songs (Hank Sr., of course). They’d also know some silly jokes. And how to laugh...including how to laugh at themselves (a lost art, that). And how to love a woman. And how to catch & clean a fish. And how to be a friend. And they’d know that it’s very, very difficult to beat Grandpa at ping pong or pool or tennis. And they would absolutely know that whatever else came their way, there would always be this very funny, handsome, doting Grandpa who loved them very intensely.

I’m absolutely certain that he’d still love a good joke. And even a good practical joke. His people…our people…are like that. We love to laugh. Even at ourselves when we’re the object of the joke.

There is no doubt that his daughters-in-law would just love and cherish him. And he would just be crazy in love with both of them.

Instead, we’re all left just to imagine…and to wonder…and to ask the question that will not be answered this side of glory: WHY?

Today, if you see a smile on my face or see me chuckle at the most random time, know that I’m imagining…and wondering…and remembering that I got more excellent daddying in 15 ½ years than many get in a lifetime. You may even see a tear now & then. I’ll be OK.

To all men reading (& especially to the three grandsons): It absolutely is possible to be a masculine, manly man without becoming a boorish lout & punk toward ladies and other men. The only time in my 15 ½ years with him that I EVER saw him with a look of cold fury on his face was when this punk (a grown man, but still a punk) threatened and made nasty, evil comments toward a woman he loved. I will never have to wonder what it means to “love your wife as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her”, for I lived with an example of that for the first 15 ½ years of my life. Perhaps I’ll get it right one day myself.

To all women reading (& especially to the two granddaughters): There ARE still such men around. Men who will cherish you…and honor you…and love you sacrificially…who will wake up in the morning thinking about how to show you that love today…who will adore & lovingly lead your children…who will inspire dreams of greatness in your sons…and in your church…and in your city and country. There are sadly not many men like that around, but they’re still around.

Don’t settle for today’s punkish, loser-ish, cheap imitation of masculinity, nor for the wimpy retreat from it that is so popular in our culture. And by the way, this guy I’m describing would also have fit the “wow, he’s hot!” criteria as well. Again, there are such men who are the total package. Wait for one of those…the others aren’t worth the effort & hassle & heartache they will surely bring into your life.

Meanwhile, it’s Fathers’ Day. Once again, as I have for nearly 21 years now since becoming a father, I look into the mirror of my memories and ask how I’m doing at it. And once again, I am reminded that I fall WAAAAY short of his example, and more, of the biblical ideal of Scripture. And once again, I ask for—and receive—God’s forgiveness & mercy toward my own efforts, and His grace & power to start anew & to do better.

And I imagine Dad smiling at Jim and me & saying “I’m proud of you son.”

And I press on.

Happy Fathers’ Day! And thanks Dad. See you later. Mom, Jim & I sure have missed you these past 34 ½ years. Can’t wait for you to meet your daughters-in-law and your grandchildren. Oh, and there’s this great guy Mom married last Fall…you would be very pleased with him and how he cherishes Mom. You’ll love them all!

I will always love you & will continue to miss you hard until you show me your mansion & introduce me to some of the saints of the ages.


With grateful love,
Mike

64 years...just imagine! I've only been alive for 50, and only married for half of those.

Bob Mangum's faith became sight a couple of days ago.

The important stuff first: Please pray for Mr. Bob's wife--of 64 years!--Mrs. Lorene. And for their 2 daughters. And for their grandchildren, two of whom I know. And their great grandchildren.

Mr. Bob served in what became the U.S. Air Force toward the end of WW2. Then he came back to Hattiesburg near his home (Magee, MS), married his sweetie & worked in the local Hercules Chemical factory from which he retired some years back.

I knew him the last 20 years of his life. I knew him in multiple dimensions: a deacon & leader in my church...the father of a friend's wife...the grandfather of two great young adults that I watched grow up...the great husband of a great wife who loved her dearly (last time I saw him, he still had a twinkle in his eye, laughing with me about how well we married)...a guy I always enjoyed chatting with, who always asked about me and about my family. A role model in so many ways.

Mr. Bob was injured in an industrial accident some years back that damaged his eyesight. And yet, I never heard him complain. He was one of those guys who was just rock solid & steady. Every young man--and us not-so-young men!--need role models like him in our lives.

And now we are short one role model. I really fear for us...for our church, our community, our area, and our nation...when "the greatest generation" is but a memory.

Where will the role models come from?

Who will teach us by word and deed and lifestyle what it means to be a man?

Who will show us how to harness and control our masculinity?
(look around our society; basically, that's not being taught any more...and we are raising a generation of punks with a severely diminished grasp of "manhood")

Who will model how to love a woman "as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her"?

Who will show us how to disagree without being disagreeable?

Who will demonstrate that Christianity is so much more than reading books & quoting proper theological terms properly?

Who will teach by word and deed what it means to be a faithful church member?
(again, look around; we are raising a generation of Christian tourists & buffet-like consumers..."I'll go to Bible study here, worship there, preaching over there, small group over here" In other words, "I'm not going to commit to anything, because that might require service to others and sacrifice and consistency and inconvenience and [gasp!] tithing & sacrificial financial giving, and other things that are, you know, yucky & stuff"...)

Who will show us how to finish well, straining toward the finish line even through sickness and pain and difficulty? How to forget what lies behind and press forward to what lies ahead?

Who will live such that when he passes from our midst, his loss is felt painfully and widely?

I fear for us. God help us.

Thanks, Mr. Bob, for being my friend. Thanks for being genuinely interested in me and in my family. Thanks for the times we laughed together. Thanks for finishing well even through pain & illness. And thanks for your faithful service to our Lord and to your family and to our church and to our country and to our world.

Your life mattered greatly, and your passing leaves a gaping hole. Rest in peace, my friend. See you later.

Mike

p.s. - this passage--a favorite of mine--came to mind as I was pondering Mr. Bob's life & legacy:

Do not cast me off in the time of old age;
forsake me not when my strength is spent.

But I will hope continually
and will praise you yet more and more.

My mouth will tell of your righteous acts,
of your deeds of salvation all the day,
for their number is past my knowledge.

With the mighty deeds of the Lord God I will come;
I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone.
O God, from my youth you have taught me,
and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds.

So even to old age and gray hairs, O God,
do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation,
your power to all those to come.

Psalm 71:9, 14-18

Hope for the Hopeless

Three & a half years ago, I had my first appointment w/ Dr. Nagen Bellare. Dr. Bellare is an awesome oncologist here in Hattiesburg. I've known him for a number of years & never planned on seeing him professionally...alas... Neither he, nor Lisa, nor I knew that this was the first of many oncology appointments here and in Houston. Anyway, at that first appointment, Dr. Bellare said he wanted to share some Scripture with me as he does with all of his patients. This is what he shared.

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10

But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
Isaiah 43:1b - 3a

I clung to those verses then. I have clung to them many times since then. I have clung to them almost daily this past year & a half, first through the fear & uncertainty of wondering and a bunch of tests & procedures, then through the desperate fear & uncertainty of knowing a diagnosis with its accompanying surgeries & immunotherapies & such. I clung to them when a great friend entered eternity last summer due to complications from his battle with leukemia.

I have also clung again in celebration, especially in my most recent visit w/ Dr. Mehran. (one more time: "there is no need to operate, Mr. Madaris. I'm cancelling your surgery. Go home & enjoy your summer..." I doubt I'll ever get tired of replaying that in my mind...*smile*)

Two songs recently showed up on my Pandora web radio station recently, both of which sort of reminded me of God's faithfulness. Freshen up your coffee & read these lyrics slowly...

Valley Song - Jars Of Clay
You have led me to the sadness
I have carried this pain
On a back bruised, nearly broken
I'm crying out to you

(Chorus) I will sing of Your mercy
That leads me through valleys of sorrow
To rivers of joy

When death like a Gypsy
Comes to steal what I love
I will still look to the heavens
I will still seek your face
But I fear you aren't listening
Because there are no words
Just the stillness and the hunger
For a faith that assures

Chorus x2

Alleluia, alleluia
Alleluia, alleluia
While we wait for rescue
With our eyes tightly shut
Face to the ground using our hands
To cover the fatal cut
And though the pain is an ocean
Tossing us around, around, around
You have calmed greater waters
Higher mountains have come down

Chorus
Yeah
Alleluia, alleluia
Alleluia, alleluia
Alleluia, alleluia alleluia, alleluia
Alleluia, alleluia alleluia, alleluia

Chorus (4 Xs)

Oh, Lord sing of Your mercy,
Mercy Your mercy

Cry Out to Jesus - Third Day
To everyone who's lost someone they love
Long before it was their time
You feel like the days you had were not enough
when you said goodbye

And to all of the people with burdens and pains
Keeping you back from your life
You believe that there's nothing and there is no one
Who can make it right

There is hope for the helpless
Rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness
Mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus

For the marriage that's struggling just to hang on
They lost all of their faith and love
They've done all they can to make it right again
Still it's not enough

For the ones who can't break the addictions and chains
You try to give up but you come back again
Just remember that you're not alone in your shame
And your suffering

There is hope for the helpless
Rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness
Mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus

When you're lonely (when you're lonely)
And it feels like the whole world is falling on you
You just reach out, you just cry out to Jesus
Cry to Jesus

To the widow who suffers from being alone
Wiping the tears from her eyes
For the children around the world without a home
Say a prayer tonight

There is hope for the helpless
Rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness
Mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus

(back to bb) Note that neither of the Scriptures and neither of the songs promise a particular outcome. In my case, Dr. Bellare didn't either (he emphasized that he could not guarantee an outcome). But the passages from Isaiah, like the two songs, promise something better than a particular situational outcome; they promise the presence of my Lord! That's all anyone can promise. And really...ultimately...that's all any of us need, though it's hard to see that in the dark of the valley.

Let me wind this up by asking you to please continue to pray for my friend Stephanie Weathers and her three children. That dreadful anniversary of the terrible outcome to their medical situation is looming in just a few short weeks--the first anniversary of Jason's entering glory. If you want to know what it looks like to magnify the name of our Lord in the midst of crushing grief...if you want to know the awful reality of losing a husband at 33 & being left with three young children...and if you want to have your socks blessed off by a remarkable lady whose life & words are an amazing testimony to the "hope for the hopeless" Third Day sings about, check out Steph's blog. These most recent two entries are incredible.

Go to http://stephanieweathers.blogspot.com and prepare to be blessed.

Hoping I always cry out to Jesus, and OH-so-thankful for His presence,
bb

p.s. - wanna hear those two songs? Both are great both musically and lyrically. Here you go:
Valley Song
Cry Out to Jesus

SHAEF - embarking on the great crusade

(Note: this one looks long, but that's only because it includes a bunch of pictures. I promise I was brief in my words. Feel free to skip mine, but please don't skip theirs down at the bottom.)
I was going to post some pics of them back on 6/6/44. DDay. But I've decided you've seen those. So I'll show some of them as they are now. Some of these are better than others, but I'm posting them all so you can get a feel for the event @ the World War II Museum in New Orleans, last Saturday, June 6. The 65th anniversary of DDay. I went with my friend, Lance, who is a modern-day Army veteran himself.

This one--and the one below are part of the "Roll Call of the Greatest Generation" Saturday afternoon. The guys stood when their branch of the service was called out.
Marines. (I know this because we spoke w/ several of the guys in the red VFW caps standing. Plus, the lady w/ the white jacket w/ the Marine Corps emblem on it.)

Was trying to capture the guy on the second row from the back. Showed up in his full uniform. (see the beret; he's looking toward his right as he's sitting)

Note the salutes during the national anthem. Including the guy @ the bottom; he's not in uniform, but is wearing his hat with his unit & branch of service. I say, salute away, sir. You definitely earned the right to do so.

Lance planned better than I. He brought along his copy of Citizen Soldier by Stephen Ambrose, and had a number of the guys sign it. This guy is from Bay St. Louis, MS, and was quite a character. Very entertaining. Showed us pictures of their "shower" back then--2 guys naked pouring buckets of water over each other. Also showed pictures of the "latrine"...but I'll not describe that one. *smile*

As I say, a character and a talker.

In contrast, this guy was shy...seemed surprised that Lance wanted his autograph. The bottom bar across his bolo tie rt next to the book cover says "Anzio." Anzio was the DDay invasion of southern Europe.

The guy in the blue hat leaning over the chat is a veteran of Iwo Jima. Still a very solid guy in great shape. Seemed to know everybody in the building. Another guy saw him & asked "How the [heck] do you still fit into your uniform top?" Response: "I work out every day...don't you?" I love it. BTW, the red thing around his neck is their veteran ID tag. The guy in the wheelchair w/ his back to us is wearing his too. You can see it if you look closely.

This is the guy in the wheelchair w/ his back to us in the previous picture. A Marine veteran. He is no longer able to speak. But was most appreciative of being asked to sign Lance's book. He (the Marine) asked his buddy next to him to sign.

Another shot of the same guy, with what I took to be his daughter.

This is an "almost" picture. Look straight over the Nat'l Guardsman talking on his phone. There's a guy there who was wearing his complete WW2 U.S. Navy uniform. Very proudly, I might add. Again, I loved it.

This is Moira Ambrose. Recognize that name? She is the widow of writer/professor the late Stephen Ambrose who has done as much as anyone to capture the stories of these guys. He wrote Citizen Soldier, DDay, Band of Brothers (yeah...that one), Wild Blue, and others. She and Stephen were instrumental in creating the museum in New Orleans. It opened 9 years ago to great--and greatly deserved--fanfare. I highly recommend it next time you're near NOLA. Leave plenty of time...there's quite a lot to see.

I'm digging this guy's white shoes, his service hat, and--of course--his sweetie beside him.

Another recognition by service unit.

And again.

Mrs. Ambrose again (center of picture). Note the Higgins boat in the background. Eisenhower called these "the boats that won the war." Mr. Higgins' company built over 20,000 of them in just a couple of years. They were used in both the Alantic and Pacific theaters.

There was this guy in the Coast Guard who brought his young son. The son had a Coast Guard hat with the Coast Guard motto on the back: "Semper Paratus"...always ready. Both of them knew the vital role the Coast Guard played on 6/6/44.

There were these two guys in wheelchairs. Veterans of DDay. And the Battle of the Bulge. I wonder if such men have spent much of the last 65 years bored. My guess is that, instead, they've spent every day of the last 65 years grateful for little things. I'm quite certain that their manhood & toughness & "do I have what it takes" questions were answered decisively between 6 June 1944 and early February 1945 never to need to be questioned again.

One guy there jumped near St. Mere Eglise as a pathfinder, which means his were literally among the 1st boots to land in occupied Normandy in the wee hours of 6/6/44. Later, he jumped into Holland as part of Operation Market-Garden. I wonder which jump was more difficult psychologically. On the one hand, he knew (sort of) what to expect for the Market Garden jump. However, it is unclear to me whether that would make that 2nd jump easier or more difficult...

There were reenactors dressed in all the parts. Including one that I wish I had photographed: Rosie the Riveter. My imagination says that she was honoring a grandmother who was one of the many ladies who took up the manufacturing jobs vacated when so many guys enlisted.

There was another guy wearing a hat with the number of the landing craft he piloted on to the beach.

This telegram that was sent the night before was read. It was from a French guy, thanking the DDay veterans for having the guts to invade his homeland in June 6, 1944...and thanking them for--some weeks later--liberating the German prison camp where he'd been held for 44 months. He still remembered the specific platoon & battalion that liberated the camp where he was held. Said something to the effect that not a day goes by that he doesn't remember the Americans and thank God for them. (Aside: and thus my composure ended rather early in the day as this was read...)

And then there's my new WW2-vintage Army Air Corps recruiting poster. Bought it @ the museum in memory of this one particular AAC veteran. Dashingly handsome fellow who made ladies' hearts quiver all over Lowndes County, AL, including those in Braggs HS, class of 1945. Whereas I graduated HS & went to the beach, he graduated HS & went to basic training at some place in MS woods...name of Camp Shelby... Then to his first duty post: a place called Nagasaki where a terrible bomb had been dropped, leading to the surrender of the Japanese. After his hitch was up, he came home. Then when the Korean conflict broke out, he went again. After that, he came home to stay, married & fulfilled his dream of having kids. I'm son #2 of 2. He will always be my favorite WW2-era veteran. The poster will be displayed somewhere soon.

But I digress...he was not a DDay veteran.

This was the order of the day, 6/6/44:

SUPREME HEADQUARTERS ALLIED EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

6 June 1944

"Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force! You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hope and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world. Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is will trained, well equipped and battle-hardened. He will fight savagely. But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to-man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory! I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking."

Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower, Commanding.

Here's Sgt. Bob Slaughter's copy. Sgt. Slaughter went ashore on Omaha Beach as part of the 116th Infantry. While on their landing craft, he passed his copy around for the guys to sign. By nightfall, half of these guys were no longer available for service...

There was another message composed that morning by Gen. Eisenhower. One that--thankfully--was never used.

"Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available. The troop, the air [force] and the navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt, it is mine alone."

Consider: "all that bravery and devotion to duty could do..." To me, there's an excellent summary of the guys I met Saturday, even though that particular notice was never used. I'll add these words from the end of the book Band of Brothers: "Grandpa, were you a hero in the war?" "No, son, I wasn't...but I served in a company of heroes..."

And these from Stephen Ambrose's DDay:
"It's a wonderful thing to remember what those fellows years ago were fighting for and sacrificing for, what they did to preserve our way of life. Not to conquer any territory, not for any ambitions of our own. But to make sure that Hitler could not destroy freedom in the world. I think it's just over whelming. To think of the lives that were given for that principle, paying a terrible price on this beach alone, on that day, 2,000 casualties. But they did it so that the world could be free. It just shows what free men will do rather than be slaves."
Gen. Dwight Eisenhower at Omaha Beach 20 years after the invasion.

And these from the previous century:
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Alfred Tennyson

"I have gone through lots of tragedies since D-Day, but to me, D-Day will live with me till the day I die, and I'll take it to heaven with me. It was the longest, most miserable, horrible day that I or anyone else ever went through. I would not take a million dollars for my experiences, but I surely wouldn't want to go through that again for a million dollars."
Felix Branham, Private, K Company, 116th Infantry, Omaha Beach
(the regiment that took the heaviest casualties of all the Allied regiments on D-Day)

"The first night in France I spent in a ditch beside a hedgerow wrapped in a damp shelter-half and thoroughly exhausted. But I felt elated. It had been the greatest experience of my life. I was ten feet tall. No matter what happened, I had made it off the beach and reached the high ground. I was king of the hill at least in my mind, for a moment. My contribution to the heroic tradition of the United States Army might have been the smallest achievement in the history of courate, but at least for a time, I had walked in the company of very brave men."
John Ellery, 16th Regiment, 1st Division, Easy Red sector, Omaha Beach.

If you're wondering, I pretty much stood silent Saturday. I am not worthy to even speak in the presence of so many heroes and "very brave men." If I live a long time, I doubt I will ever again walk among so many selfless heroes who are "ten feet tall" still today. I'll echo Mr. Ellery's words: at least for a time last Saturday, I walked in the company of very brave men...

And they are leaving us way too fast. Soon, they will all be but a memory. And we as a nation will be all the poorer.

bb

Sometimes, it's hard to blog...

P.G.T. Beauregard "Beau" Madaris, ladies & gents...the pride of Oxord, MS...shutting down all productivity...

I was actually editing a blog entry about Saturday at this point in time. I'll try again when Beau's awake. *huge grin*

bb