Military Archives - Page 2 of 5

January 7, 2014 by Karin 4 Comments

Bigger Cups Sizes And Thin Skin

I wish it didn’t matter to me. I wish I could say I don’t care.

I want to be liked. When I am not, it hurts. I wonder what I must have done to cause this perceived dislike, and return the favor – certain it is the other person’s problem anyway.

The skin thickens.

I heard a story once. A priest speaking at a retreat compared us to cups.

The larger our cups get, the thinner the sides. The thinner the sides, the more others can see Christ through us. We pour ourselves out and fill ourselves with Christ.

A woman excitedly responded,

So we want to have a bigger cup size!

The priest smiled and replied,

I choose not to answer that.

Laughter erupted in the room and the woman blushed,

Oh dear.

She is right. We want to have a bigger cup size and thin skin.

(Join me at (in)courage today for the rest of this story…)

Philippians 1:9-11

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.

November 11, 2013 by Karin 4 Comments

When There Is More To The Story {for the Veterans}

31 days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 30 ~

I was expecting something. Someone, really.

After weeks and weeks of eyes opening to people right in front of me – these people waiting with open hands – I’ve begun to expect. I don’t think they expect – I suppose a better word would be hope. They hope someone will notice.

But, I was on a mission. The gray hairs that force their way onto this mama’s head had arrived… again. One by one they show up and stand at attention. Like little gray soldiers demanding the right to be seen after years of deployments, endless work hours… and six kids. Well… and a little heredity thrown in, too.

No matter. It was time to subdue those determined (and multiplying) suckers.

Mission… hair dresser.

I was off and had no time for distractions during this sacred mama “me time.”

I don’t know how I ended up on that road. It wasn’t the road I intended to take. You know that coma driving we do when there are no distractions. I drove on in this grid-town. You can get anywhere if you know how to drive a square.

I looked up and saw him. He was an older man. He shuffled back and forth next to the cars. The red lights are the best places to get our attention. We have to actually try to look away.

I saw him wander back and forth as I glanced at the clock. No time. And, I drove on.

He registered in my mind as I drove past,

If You want me to stop for him, please remind me later. I don’t want to be late.

Hairs tamed, grays smothered, scalp massaged, and ends trimmed; I handed her the check. She’s a spunky local girl with a heart of gold and a lifetime of stories, though her life has been much shorter than mine. I hugged her neck and went on my way – delighted that suffocating gray hairs is much cheaper in this town than the last.

It was then that He reminded me,

Go back to the guy at the corner.

I’m learning to listen, so I turned the truck in the direction of the old man with the cardboard sign.

I’ll tell you, once you give once, it becomes something you want to do again and again. As if He designed us to give… to love.

I was prepared to give the man a bill, when He interrupted my thoughts,

You know what you just paid for your hair? Give him that much.

I can’t say that I argued, but I did ask Him for clarification,

That much? Is that what I should give?

Truth, I had never handed someone a wad of bills like that… it’s different went you write a check or swipe a card.

Do you only trust Me $20 worth?

And that’s really where the truth lies. Do I only trust Him 20 dollars worth – or as much as my comfort will allow?

I smiled as my hand began to shake. I knew. I didn’t want to be that person. The 20-dollar-truster… the only-this-much-but-no-more giver.

I pulled my car around to the light and rolled down my window. I glimpsed his sign – Vietnam vet. Please help.

What’s your name?

A smile appeared on his weathered, tired face. He could have been my father, my father-in-law, my uncle.

Jim.

Of course it was Jim. Just another version of James.

Jim, I’m going to pray for you. Thanks for your service. I hate that you are standing out here asking for money.

He looked at the bills in his hand as his eyes widened,

Thank you! Oh, God, thank you.

He walked away as I waited for light. I saw him turn back in a hurry. He had just counted his bills,

Oh my God. Thank you! What is your name? You have no idea what you’ve just done for me. I’m not getting my social security. You have no idea.

I smiled as I felt my heart surge,

I wish I could give you more, Jim.

His teary eyes bore into mine as he replied,

Oh no. This is just… unreal. You are going to heaven, Karin. I won’t ever forget this.

There is something about giving, about doing good, that begins to transform a heart. It shamed me for ever having been blind to people around me, and it reminded me of how much I have to be grateful for.

My husband is a veteran. My brother is a veteran. My brother-in-law is a veteran. My father is a veteran. This man, someone’s family, is a veteran.

So, just when you think you know the whole of a story… God gives you more to take in.

Weeks went by. Then, yesterday, of all people, I saw Jim.

He stood there on the corner, same sign in his hand, and waited. Vietnam Vet. Please Help.

Did you know that the US Department of Housing and Urban Development estimates that 62,619 veterans are homeless on any given night? On top of that, about 1.4 million other veterans are considered at risk of homelessness due to poverty, lack of support networks, and dismal living conditions in overcrowded or substandard housing.

I rolled down my window and smiled at the familiar face,

Hi, Jim.

His eyes brightened as he beamed,

Are you Karin? I’ve been thinking about what you did. Do you know that you paid my rent for the whole week?

I grinned and answered,

I hoped it was for something like that. I’ve been praying for you, Jim. Why are you out here?

He leaned in and told me the story of his wife passing away, of things going wrong, of life turning upside down.

This is so embarrassing, you know.

I nodded,

Jim, you could be my dad, or my father-in-law, or my uncle. Do your kids know you are here?

His eyes went to the ground as he shrugged,

Actually, my daughter told me to come out here.

What do you say to that? I looked into the old man’s eyes and gave him a handful of rent.

Here, Jim, this will cover your rent this week. I’ll keep praying for you.

His eyes filled as he touched my hand,

Thank you, Karin, the prayers are working. Things are turning around. God bless you.

I’m going home now.

I smiled as the light turned green. Time to go. He waved as I turned the corner. My friend, Jim. The veteran dodging homelessness on a street corner. The man who dodged bullets for his country, now begging handouts on the street – at the urging of his daughter.

I’m not sure which wrecked me more. A veteran serving, now begging; or a father sacrificing, now breaking.

I drove home to my warrior, my very own veteran. The house bustled and brimmed with a daddy and his two sons… and four daughters.

I watched those little ones wrap arm after arm around their daddy’s neck, and I whispered to Him,

God, bless this veteran… and his children. And, may his daughters never forget their daddy’s sacrifice.

Happy Veteran’s Day – and endless thanks to you and your families for your sacrificial service.

1 John 4:9-11

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.

November 9, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

The Good Deed That Keeps Giving

31 days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 28 ~

Sacrifice.

A good gift given sacrificially – when you give more than you have… and more than you keep – is the most beautiful good deed of all.

When you give in a quiet place, in a simple note, and out of the goodness and gratitude of your heart.

This. This is the good deed that keeps giving.

And sometimes it keeps giving beyond your wildest imagination.

This story. It’s just awesome.

As a military wife, I am thankful for this young woman’s gratitude and beautiful heart.

A beautiful story to start off the weekend before Veteran’s Day. You’re going to love this story…

Happy weekend, friends.

(if you are getting this in an email, please click over to the blog to watch the 5 minute video)

Hebrews 13:16

And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.

November 8, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

You Just Never Know…

31 days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 27 ~

It looks like summertime. You’d never know it is fall in the middle of the sunny desert.

My eyes scan the horizon for any glimpse of fall leaves in this sandy town. Nothing. This place of perpetual summer leaves and green cacti.

I’m left to close my eyes. Behind the lids I see the glorious gold. The rusty orange, raging red, and luminous yellow blaze in my mind’s eye.

The leaves will fall and again I’ll close my eyes to see the thick pillow of snow cascade across the landscape. This, I think, we might miss the most. The winter snow. There is just something about snow that makes everyone feel more like a brother, or a sister. Like we are trapped in a down comforter together. The snow feathers all around while we gaze in amazement and offer hands of help. There is something about the snow that quiets the earth and fills in the lines of division with white goodness.

We can look into the distance here and see the white caps of jagged mountains. These hills that surround us now will soon be covered in a white blanket. Almost close enough to reach, but not near enough to our front door step.

I remember the scene. My front door step just three years ago. I didn’t glimpse the stone of those steps for months. Two blizzards raged outside, back to back… just after he left. I watched the wind whip the branches around as the ice thickened and grabbed hold of the fast falling flakes.

The mounds grew and grew. By morning all we could see was white. Like a ski chalet somewhere on the other side of the world. While my warrior, green bags in tow, flew far away… somewhere to the other side of the world. Deserts far away from the white down on our front stoop.

He loves this stuff. I wish he could see this…

The shrieks and jubilant hollers from our, then, pack of five filled the cozy rooms. Some of the glee came right from mama’s mouth. There’s just something about snow. It brings me back to childhood memories while holding me in the present moment – all at the same time. Nothing else quite does that.

Weeks and weeks went by. Snow does begin to wear on mama bear somewhere between the soaked suits and wet boots. Many times I thought,

This would be so much better with two. He would just love this.

Friends with warrior hearts and pastors with servant’s souls came day after day to make sure mama and babies had supplies and a shoveled driveway. We just can’t make it through the cold days without our brothers and sisters. The white goodness in the hearts of friends and neighbors quieted and warmed our souls in the middle of missing daddy.

After months of snowy ground cover, the walkways seemed to transform to a slick glistening path of reflection… and danger of broken bones.

I don’t remember quite what I was doing, but I know just where I was standing when I saw her carefully climb those slick steps. My mind quickly made the judgement call,

Who on earth tries to sell stuff door-to-door in weather like this? Just nuts…

Her hand went to the door and she knocked briefly. She was dressed for the weather with a hat that capped what I was sure was plum craziness.

I opened the door anticipating,

No thank you, we aren’t interested.

It just goes to show you… not so fast. Not so fast with that judgement thing. You never know… you might just being opening the door to a gift.

She smiled at me,

Hi. I’m your neighbor down the street.

She pointed to the house. Oh, I knew the house. We all knew she was a hoarder. Not in the sense that all of us have trouble letting go, but in the true definition of hoarder. The house seemed to slowly disappear behind overgrown shrubs; and any glimpse into the cracked garage door bore witness to years and years of newspapers… and so much more. Stacks and stacks piled behind the darkened windows. Occasionally we would see a car come and go.

What could bring a person to this place… hoarding? The stories swirled of sadness… the passing of her husband was said to start it all. But, who knows where it all really starts?

My eyes widened as a smile crept to my face,

Hi. How are you? I’m Karin.

She smiled, shook my hand, and went on,

I heard your husband was deployed. I know you have a lot of kids down here and that you probably can’t get to the store. I was at Home Depot and grabbed the last two bags of rock salt. I want you to have them for your walkway. It can be dangerous with all this ice and I don’t want you guys to get hurt.

Just when you think you know a story… grace comes crashing in.

She went on to tell me about her daughter and grandchildren. She even offered to watch my children should I reach the brink of madness home alone with five of them.

We laughed and talked; and finally she went on her way down the icy path.

I watched out the window until I couldn’t see her anymore.

I felt His love and protection, and at the same time I heard Him whisper,

You just never know…

And, we don’t.

We don’t know the whole of any story.

We know pieces and parts. We form our opinions on shards of information… on slivers of truth.

We form our opinions on sheets of ice only to find grace and humility melting them all away.

Sometimes we don’t know the white pillows of goodness that are hidden in a heart.

The woman who hoarded things we couldn’t understand, freely gave what a stranger needed. You just never know.

You just never know what you’ll find on your front step… if you are willing to open the door…

and your heart.

Revelation 3:20

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.

November 7, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

The Longest Walk

31 days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 26 ~

Sometimes the longest walk… is across the room.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. Though the reflection in my mirror proves it was more than a few yesterdays ago. I remember it.

The doors of that magnificent old church opened. Both arched doors revealed a sea of faces waiting for one nervous bride.

I remember my girlfriend Kim fretting over her hair as her nerves tingled in last minute stage fright.

I remember my dad, handsome, standing straight and proud holding my arm. His German accent whispered in my ear as the gates to wedded bliss opened wide.

I remember taking those first few steps as the breath caught in my throat and the tears hovered in my lashes.

I heard the whisper of my warrior’s pilot comrade to my left,

Awesome.

I smiled to myself thinking I had succeeded at pulling off the perfect Princess Bride makeover.

I peered and saw the Scottish priest in his cowboy boots. Beaming.

Overwhelming. The crowd stood like a wave surging over a small unsuspecting shell sunning on the sand.

Breathtaking. The faces of people I loved, some I barely knew, some I didn’t know I would grow to love over the years. This family of friends and relatives welcomed me into the room.

And, I began to walk.

I remember a few faces in the sea. They smiled through my blurry eyes and my heart swelled.

I walked.

Then, I saw him.

Smiling and standing proud in his mess dress. Surrounded by his brothers, my brothers, and friends who had become brothers.

My feet carried me, I think. But, really, it was my heart.

And, we met at the altar.

This walk burned into my memory. I can close my eyes and see it still.

Then, the years rush. They pull and they push and the waves crash over and over again.

The ride is up and down over the swell.

I remember a song my girlfriend Jennifer and I used to play and repeat… and repeat. Big fans of Big Head Todd and The Monsters.

Bittersweet.

The song intrigued us as the single girls. The lyrics… they are just a little bit sad. How would we avoid the bittersweet?

It’s bittersweet

More sweet than bitter,

bitter than sweet.

It’s a bittersweet surrender.

The walk that day. Nothing but sweet. Completely and wholly surrendered.

And the years keep rolling and the waves keep crashing. And the lyrics come back to me…

I know we don’t talk about it.

We don’t tell each other.

All the little things that we need.

We work our way around each other…

As we tremble and we bleed.

The song still whispers a heartache. I’ve watched it happen. So many times, I’ve seen my friends tremble and bleed.

And my warrior and I, we have trembled and bled just a few times, too.

We work our way around each other. We ride these waves. And we just want to keep our heads above the water. But, really, we want to stand on the water and walk. We want to walk this walk together. We want to meet at the altar.

The good deed.

I met a couple of new friends a few weeks ago. I asked them for good deeds and I waited for stories about heroic acts and gifts given in secret. Then, Shannon smiled and told me,

I walked across the room and gave my husband a glass of water.

I stopped and looked into her eyes.

She went on,

We had been disagreeing and I was so frustrated with him. But, I wanted to make peace.

So, I served him. I walked across the room and gave him a glass of water.

And, it changed everything.

Another brave heart I had just met, Karen, she laughed and said,

I just brought my husband tea.

We weren’t in the best place with each other and were both frustrated.

I made him a cup of tea.

I walked across the room and handed it to him. And, he melted.

I smiled at the simplicity of the deed. The simplest deed is sometimes the very hardest one.

I thought about the times my warrior and I have battled on our own hills.

Sometimes the walk across the room… is the longest walk.

This ride, these waves, the best deed… walk across the room completely and holy surrendered.

The sweet surrender.

The longest walk… our feet won’t carry us.

But, in surrender… our hearts can.

As we meet at the altar again… and again.

Ephesians 5:1-2

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

Bigger Cups Sizes And Thin Skin

When There Is More To The Story {for the Veterans}

The Good Deed That Keeps Giving

The Longest Walk

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