Denominational Woes

Because we've moved around so much during Ward's military career, we've had a chance to sample many different denominations within the Christian church. We began our religious experience by joining an Episcopal church. We studied there, we were baptized as adults, and were confirmed. It is still my favorite way to worship. The Episcopal church is imploding with all of the differences going on between diocese, but it does just boil down to staying true to scripture or interpreting to what itching ears want to hear. Sure it might make you feel better, but I want to make sure I'm right with God, not man.

Anyway, that all brings me to the topic of my title. When we got here we did try the post chapels, but we just didn't feel it. So we ventured off post, and went for a little while to the baptist church right outside the gate. We had good friends that went there and it was not bad. But when the Beaver started going to the Christian school, he asked that we attend the baptist church that is just adjacent to the school. There is no requirement that he attend, but we thought how often does a teen ask to go to church? So we started attending about a year ago, and have been ever since.

It's not a bad little service. But I miss the liturgy. And the more traditional music. The reason we continue to go is that the ministry is so genuine. There is a transparency to their religion in that they really do minister in countless ways, both inside and outside the church. I love them for that.

But, (you knew this was coming!) there is something about a baptist service that just doesn't feel . . . I can't get the right word here, worshipful? Remember in the movie Pollyanna, when the townspeople would dread Sundays and get heartburn? It was the preacher's Sunday sermon, full of brooding hellfire and damnation! To quote Karl Malden:

"Strike hard the excessiveness of God's wrath (on Sunday) and hope they can carry it with them a few days into the week."

I'm like Pollyanna in wanting to hear the glad verses, because being a Christian is the best thing in the world to be, it should be joyful! And that's what's been bugging me. Our sermon's are preached as if everyone is a lost dying sinner. But this is a very small congregation and everyone knows and/or is related to everyone else and you just know that they are all professed Christians. So why is every Sunday a Groundhog Day Sermon?! And every Sunday we end with an altar call. Are they surprised when no one comes forward? You've already got 'em!

And there's the difference. Sunday morning should be about worship, mainly. (You can reel them in at other times, and we should be about this business daily.) That is what I miss so about an Episcopal service. The orderliness, the Liturgy of the Word with its Old Testament, then the Psalms reading followed by the gospel reading, the collect, the Nicene Creed. Everything is done in its proper order with the help of fidgety altar boys and grumpy old deacons. Maybe I'm just partial because that's the church that welcomed us into the body of Christ.

And now I'm back to it . . . the body of Christ. This little church is part of it and it's where I have to be if only for a season.

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors

Betty's recent celebratory comment on her bad neighbors reminded me that Frost is correct about fences and neighbors, though you can't have that in an apartment complex can you? We do have a very nice fence as do our neighbors, but our homes have an adjoining wall, and that means we are still too close, fences notwithstanding. And our neighbors are moving too. The only problem we had is that he worked on cars. I mean he rebuilt several automobiles while he was living here. Which was no skin off my nose, until he began painting them in his garage, which adjoins ours. Really, there is probably some obscure rule against doing that in your home here on a military post, and the first time he did it, I thought oh well, it's just this once. I had no idea at the time this was a part-time business for him, especially since he's a chaplain. But over the past year we came to realize that it's a side business for him, and we were assaulted by paint fumes more than a few times!

But commenting on a neighbors perceived violation of living with your neighbor code protocol is tricky business. You still have to live with them after saying anything so we always choose to say nothing, unless really, really provoked. And I was really, really provoked over this weekend . . . but they are moving! So what, do you do?! I was this || close to calling the MPs. What they did was to take in their son-in-laws beautiful mixed breed dog (looks mostly malamute) and leave it in their fenced in back yard while they are gone for the weekend. So this hairy dog was left to swelter in the over 90 degree heat, when it wasn't cowering in the corner during the multiple thunder storms that we had here in Kentucky. There were a couple of water bowls left for it, but absolutely no shelter of any kind to get in out of the sun or rain.
Aargh! The Beaver said someone came yesterday, maybe to provide food, but it is still outside.
When they return I will mention something to them . . . I'm just going to have to figure out what.

For Harry, England and St. George

Ward is off to a foreign land today. We know why he goes, but it's still hard. Our job is not to worry, but to pray for him and all of our troops, for safety and strength, and especially discernment.

I'm turning to the liturgy, #25 For those in the Armed Forces of our Country:


Almighty God, we commend to your gracious care and keeping all the men and women of our armed forces at home and abroad (Especially Ward). Defend them day by day with your heavenly grace; strengthen them in their trials and temptations; give them courage to face the perils which beset them; and grant them a sense of your abiding presence wherever they may be; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


And all of Psalm 91!

Farewell to Thee, Blithe Spirit

Here follows yet another little speech, this time given for the DCOs (deputy commanding officer) spouse of Fort Knox upon her departure to Fort Lewis. She and her husband set a wonderful tone of mentorship and fellowship while there were here, we will miss them, and I'm saving this more for me than anything else.

Lhoryn, first we're going back to when you and Pete were first married and you had to leave Georgia. I picture you sounding like Ruth of old and saying something like this:

"Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee, for wither
thou goest, I will go, especially to Garmisch; and where thou lodgest I will
lodge, no matter how small the kitchen. And thy people shall be my people,
and soldiers and spouses!"

And so you began your Army journey, which eventually brought you back here to Fort Knox. I knew right away that we were kindred spirits. You know and love Army traditions. So of course you know and love every corny Army spouse poem that was ever written, as do I. And that's why I couldn't use any here today, but I had to come up with something on my own to convey just what you have meant to all of us this past year. I was trying to think of an appropriate word that would describe what you helped build here at Fort Knox, Lhoryn.

It's more than community, which is folks living in a particular area and sharing common interests, though we certainly have that. No. But it's more than that. It's more inclusive than family, although one of the lesser known definitions for family is a unit of a crime syndicate operating within a geographical area, and I think Knox Hills or the Leaders Club might call us that!

We do have a wonderful fellowship which is described as a group of people united by certain convictions or a common affiliation, but again, still that word is not adequate. No, I think what you gave us is a feeling of sisterhood, that old southern sorority, that special group that forms to build a network of support. Yes, sisterhood, that's the word I was looking for. And the way you did that was just to simply care for us in countless ways.

This was a whirlwind of a year and you were at the vortex, helping, nudging, suggesting. Thank you, thank you for sharing your heart, your home, and your gift of selfless service. Fort Lewis is one lucky post. We will miss you, but you have left us with a very special legacy . . . name tags that stick!

There's no need to get misty eyed, because as Shakespeare's sonnet on friendship reminds us:

All losses are restored and sorrows end,

If I but think on thee, dear friend.

Goodbye, alright, already!

When it comes time to change out commanders in the military, there is a long drawn out process of saying farewell. The higher up you go, the more painful the process. As outgoing brigade commander, Ward's been farewelled a lot these past three weeks, with the climax being the actual on-the-parade-field COC ceremony. Before that there were several luncheons, official and non, plus my own farewell at the club. It is thoughtful to take the time to thank those people you've worked with and to get a pat on the back yourself, but by the time you actually make the transition to the next guy, folks are pretty much sick of you with a "why are you still here" look when they see you! It is a bit of an overkill, but what makes it especially hard for me, is that I'm staying here for the next year. The usual circumstance is that you are packing out and hitting the road after this long goodbye and moving cheerfully on to the next duty station. Ward leaves tomorrow for his deployment and I'm staying on . . . got any ideas for a good disguise?

Too Much Ping, Not Enough Pong

The number one son was in this week for the COC. (Change of Command) He arrived with great hopes of relaxing a bit, visiting with his family, and playing a little Ping Pong with the little bro. And of course he knew that we would ask him to work on the computers. HA! He should have worn his No, I won't fix your computer! shirt, because he spent a good deal of his time doing just that. But in fairness to myself and Ward, we just wanted the basic cleaning up of all the small messes we had created. Well, Beaver's mess was mongo, but anyway, Wally got sidetracked on upgrading this and reconfiguring that, all to our great appreciation, but we never did get the Ping Pong table out. Maybe next time!

My Farewell Speech to Ladies at Fort Knox

When a commander gets ready to hand over the command to the new guy, we wives also have a ritual of saying goodbye to the command time in our own way. We have a standing tradition of something called a "Farewell." It's a thoughtful little get together of all the folks you've met and worked with as a commander's spouse. We met at the club this evening for my official farewell and this is the little speech I gave.

Thank you wives of the 16th CAV Regiment, Heather, April, Debbie and Jimin for putting this event together and thank you Ann, Jennifer, and Robyn and guests for honoring our Army traditions by attending.

There’s another Army tradition that’s not written about in social guides or protocol books, and that’s the new assignments circle of life, and I’m not talking “Hakuna Matata," because that means no worries. No, this is the spouses take on Army assignments:

It goes like this:

First few months at the new post: I hate this place. The curtains don’t fit . . . These are the crummiest quarters we’ve ever lived in. People just aren’t that friendly here. Johnny isn’t making any new friends. I hate the Army!!

Between six months and a year. Well it’s really not so bad here. The unit has great folks and I really like our neighbors, especially now that Johnny has a new BFF. I could really like it here. Maybe the Army’s not so bad after all.

After a year; I love it here. Wow, this unit is great; we’ve just never experienced anything like the great community of this post. I don’t even want to think about moving. I love the Army!!

New assignment time. How could they do this to us. We love it here. We’ll never have friends like this again. Why do we have to move. I hate the Army!!


Now we have a new paradigm thrown into the mix, that of the individual deployment, which is what I will be experiencing this year. That is the situation where the spouse stays in the community but there’s no unit, no rear D. But there is a Fort Knox community. So while Ward is in a war zone the Beaver and I will be in a comfort zone. Thank you all for being a part of that.


Ann has said that we should always keep these things kind of light hearted, but I’m going to step up on my soapbox for a minute and borrow some words from Toby Keith about the whole reason we’re here in this room. And that is really not about me but about support for our soldiers. Now I’m not talking about all soldiers, but just that one! That boot wearing lug that got you into all of this, the one you are closest to, and so often take for granted. Because we get busy with meetings and clubs and shlepping kids to their activities and forget just what our guys do. They are Warriors!


These words from the song American Soldier aren’t poetry or even prose but they get it just about right:

I’m just trying to be a father

Raise a daughter and a son

Be a lover to their mother

Everything to everyone



Up and at ‘em bright and early, I’m all business in my suit

I’m dressed up for success, from my head down to my boots

I don’t do it for money, there’s bills I that I can’t pay

I don’t do it for the glory, I just do it anyway



I’m real good under pressure, being all that I can be

I can’t call in sick on Mondays when the weekend’s been too strong

I just work straight through the holidays, and sometimes all night long

You can bet that I stand ready, when the wolf growls at the door

Hey I’m solid, hey I’m steady, hey I’m true down to the core.

And I will always do my duty no matter what the price

I’ve counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice

Oh and I don’t want to die for you, but if dyin’s asked of me

I’ll bear that cross with honor, cause freedom don’t come free.

I’m American Soldier. An American.


Where do we find men like that? An American Soldier. YOUR American Soldier. THEY have the tough job. Ours is the easy one, to love them . . . To support them.

So honor the sacrifices they make. Be there for them. Be a help to them. Have a smile and a meal ready for them when they walk through that door after working late. And when they have to deploy, be strong. Be strong like Antje, like Emily, like DeLisa, like Julie . I’m saying this to remind myself as well as you as I face the year ahead.

OK enough of that!

Thank you all sharing a bit of yourselves this evening. And now I’ll go and try to take my own advice. I'll see you around the neighborhood. God Bless!

Music Musings

My favorite genre of music is of course, contemporary Christian. But my favorites are the really not so very current Dennis Jernigan and Carman. I listen to the radio quite often too, though not really paying attention to the names of the artists. That's why I was pleasantly surprised by Betty's Mother's Day gift of a new music CD. I opened it and saw it was Chris Tomlin, who I thought I'd never heard of . . . until I popped in for play. Wow! I knew all of the songs well enough to sing along, although I am always, always asked to "stop!" if Beaver is anywhere nearby.

Betty's thought was that I could add these songs to my MP3 play list for when I run. It's too bad, but I've had to give up listening as I exercise as it is against post policy. My running route goes directly in front of the MP station or I might try to get away with it. But I'm following "ze rules!"

Anyway, Betty, this is your official "thank you" for the thoughtful gift. I'm enjoying it in the silver bullet!