Ripple Affects

Reading this article I found much that I could identify with, while many details differed in my life – I learned many of the same lessons. One of these lessons was that my actions don’t just affect me. In our world of self-centered egotism, we often fail to remember, let alone teach our children, that the decisions we make do in fact have impact upon others, whether or not we like it. And that this must be taken into consideration when making even seemingly private decisions. I’m going to use his example, as it was so well written:

“There was little crime on base, only in part because the fence kept strangers out. Time and again, my father sat my brothers and me down and explained that we had to obey all the rules on base. If we were ever picked up by the Air Police, it would go into his permanent file. He could get passed over for promotion for something we did. When I was ten, this outraged my emerging sense of selfhood. “Why? Why should you be punished for something I do? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“At promotion meetings, they’ll say, ‘If he can’t even control his own family, how in the world is he going to lead men into combat?’ That makes a lot of sense to me.” It did to me too, as I thought about it, and I moved through my childhood with a fearsome sense that my actions were not just mine, that they affected my father and, through him, my entire family. Though I was already a timid child, this sense of caution and responsibility made me even more cautious. Even a speeding ticket was literally a federal crime, and if, when I was old enough to drive, I were clocked going 30 in a 25-mile-an-hour zone, I’d have to go to federal court and pay a whopping fine. And a record of my transgression would be added to my father’s file.”

This is the same thing that happens in our world today, outside the military with respect to our heavenly Father. Everything we as, His children, do goes on God’s “permanent record” that the world around us is keeping. While Christ forgives, the world is not so forgiving – not does it forget easily. When we act and live our lives out of line with scripture we reflect poorly to those around us, who Christ is, who God is. So often I have to remind myself that just because the people around me – even the churched people – are doing something, doesn’t mean it is okay. We must live our lives for the glory and fame of the name of God and each choice and decision we as believers make may have a huge impact on how the world around us views Christ.

A Quest for Home

Home is an issue that every military brat must come to terms with at some point. The dictionary defines home in several ways and most people define home by the first definition I found “the place, such as town or country, where one was born or has lived for a long time” coupled with “an environment offering security and happiness.” For a Brat these elements are rarely the same – IF there is a place at all where we have lived “a long time.”

For a brat “Home” is either not a sentimental issue – simply a place where you sleep, or they are still on the quest to find “home” which can be very lonely and depressing. One article I read lately, dealt with these issues of home… “Like many other military brats, I also have no place to call home. My civilian friends always laughed at me when we went on school trips because I was apt to call the hotel that we were staying at 'home.' They never understood that where I lay my head is home. However, I once did consider New Hampshire to be my home. I lived there for six years, and when they announced that they were closing the base I was heartbroken. I insisted that New Hampshire was my home, though, up until we went back to visit a few years ago.” For so many of us – we may feel “at home” in one place for a while but often a visit back reveals how much we no longer – or never really - belonged there.

So eloquently put by another brat: “I realized that the bases I’d been barred from ever since I turned twenty-one were not my home. I’d thought they were because I had lived there, swam there, learned to drive, earned a brown belt in judo, eaten at the mess hall, sat in cockpit of an F-105, spent whole days in the Air War College library. Isn’t that what a hometown is, the place where you do those things? But those years on base and that childhood belonged in some fundamental way to my father and the U.S. Air Force, not me. You can’t go home again, of course--no one can, as Thomas Wolfe is famous for reminding us--but for military kids the fence between the past and the present is not only figurative, it’s also literal, and that makes it even more potent in memory.”

So what is home? You can drive yourself crazy trying to find it here on earth, looking for a place to belong. A place where, like Cheers, every body knows your name. But I think I’ve found the most peace in understanding that my home is in Heaven. Not here on earth. Some day, I will go home and be at rest – Until that day, these gypsy feet will continue to take me from one adventure to the next, in one town, or another. Whether I’m here for the rest of my life, another decade or simply the rest of the summer, I have a truly permanent home in Heaven with Christ.

Gypsy Feet

The everyday celebrity never really served the purpose I created it for. I started off well, but then failed. The point being to share other peopleÂ’s stories and instead became just the ramblings of my mind. At some point in the last eight months, I realized that in truth the One and Only "“Everyday Celebrity" ” was Jesus Christ. Not that hasn'tasnÂ’t been my Savior all along, but that His celebrity is truly that which I must remember and recognize each and every day.

So why the new name?

For some time now, I have felt a huge burden for a subculture which I was born into - that of the Military "Brat."” I use the term hesitantly because while I am immensely proud of being a Brat - I often resent the use of the term by those who are not. I am still praying for God's direction in how I will be able to minister to other Brats, but lately God has at least offered me the opportunity to share my experiences and perspective with friends who are marrying into the military.

I have been accused of many things - having no roots, being part of the gypsy population, my cousin even calls me her "vagabond cousin"” which comes from a downward spiral of being transient- vagrant - homeless. All of these are true -– and in many ways, I'’m glad they are, but there are times when I'’m not. Still, being a brat has taught me so much about life and my walk with wouldn't that I wouldn'’t change a minute of it. One brat wrote:

“All in all, I wouldn't change my military brat life for anything in the world. Sure, I've got gypsy-feet, and I've had to work for my friends, but I've done so much more than many people have done their entire lives. I only hope that I can offer as much to my own children."” This resounds in my soul.

I started searching the internet for sites by other brats. Anyone remember seeing the movie B.R.A.T. Patrol? Anyway, I was again struck by the loneliness and sense of being an outsider that so often comes with being a brat. I was then reminded that as a Christian, I should feel this same sense of being an outsider in this world – Christ is with us and we don'’t need to be lonely, but we are called to be outsiders). In my understanding, this is what scripture refers to when it says we are to be in the world but not of the world and that we are aliens and strangers. It wasn'’t until a couple of years ago that I realized how very much being a brat influenced the way I think, the way I understand, the way I live and the way I interact with people. So in the next few posts, I will probably explore some of the things I've learned as a military brat.

What I Learned in Florida

The most important thing I learned in Florida this weekend has to do with Andi. After wearing High Heels for several hours that included lots of walking to put out food and pass out Programs at our friend Amy's wedding. We narrowed down her future career choices. Yes that's right in Andi's own words:

"I can never be a prostitute. My feet hurt!" Whew. Good thing we got that settled. A close call really, but now that she's safely decided that wearing heels rule out at least one profession, we can turn our attentions to finding her a job that allows her to wear flats, or tennis shoes. ;-)

She asked What?!?!?!

Okay, so I thought a lot about this post and decided not to post it.... Then I talked to a friend and discovered that apparently this isn't that unusual of a question - which makes me feel even more foolish for misunderstanding it, but I'll let you laugh at me, since apparently other people wouldn't have been quite so confused.

A few weeks ago, I drove down to Murfreesboro, TN - just East of Nashville - to see some of the dearest people. My friend Jenn and I spent most of the weekend just relaxing and doing absolutely nothing - which is exactly the type of vacation I needed. Saturday evening the kids were upstairs watching a movie with their Daddy and Jenn and I were watching a movie downstairs, when we started discussing all the people who were getting married, were married or had just gotten engaged. This year has been Episode 2 of "It Must be in the Water" - because I'm pretty sure that of the people I knew in college and high school maybe 3 or 4 will survive the summer unmarried and unengaged. Everyone else will have fallen victim to, well - coupledom. Oh well.

Back to my story.... So Jenn and I were talking about all the weddings and such when she looked up at me and asked "Who's going to marry you, Tamara?" This is a question I expect from Grandparents, Aunts, uncles, cousins, anyone who hasn't given up on seeing me married - which actually isn't that many people anymore, so I don't hear it that often. It used to be the second thing family asked. "Hi Tamara, How have you been? Do you have a boyfriend?" Then around my 19th or 20th birthday it became, "Don't you have a boyfriend, yet? (asked with a certain amount of exasperation). Next was "Still thinking about getting married someday? A boyfriend would really be a good start." (This was followed by extremely less than desirable suggestions and attempts to set me up with people I wouldn't really wish on my enemies - Trust me when I say if the guy's cousin thinks its a bad idea to set him up with someone who is sane - just don't do it). Now there is simply that awkward silence following "how are you?" as my family tries to decide what to ask next. They've definitely given it up. Which is happy.... But I digress

"Who's going to Marry You?" If it wasn't Jenn, I'm sure I would have been offended. I mean come on, I'm 25 and still single. We were just discussing how everyone, their brother, sister, and uncle's third cousin's sister's friend are getting married. What kind of question is that? Clearly I don't know. If I did, I'd probably have a ring on my finger (since that and a wedding ceremony are probably the two most concrete answers to that question).

Now I'm in a dilemma. How do I answer. Do I get defensive? I'm not only okay with being single, in fact, I enjoy it. God has given me such a blessing in my singleness to be able to serve Him and be flexible with my entire life. It makes living at the "Whim of God" a whole lot easier. So what do I say? OH no! Major inward struggle for all of 5-10 seconds.

I decide to try to laugh it off "Well, Jenn when I find that out, I'll invite you to the wedding." And then I'm sure I probably babbled, because that's what I do when I get a little flustered. She started laughing. Now I'm confused. What's so funny? It's an honest answer. What did I miss?

I must have had the most perplexed look on my face, because between bursts of laughter she explained, that all she wanted to know was who - i.e. what pastor - would perform the wedding ceremony. Oh. Now don't I feel foolish. But I bet all of you knew all along that was exactly what she was asking. But me? No way, I totally misinterpreted the question. So what was there to do but laugh also, (In my defense her tonal inflections definitely added to my misinterpreting the question) and say - "I don't really know." I guess part of that depends on who my pastor is at the time and part depends on Matthew and Jennifer. (Jenn's husband (Matthew) was my college pastor - hence the motivation for the question).

A Town Called........ What?

This past weekend, Andi and I drove down to visit a friend of ours in Kentucky. On our way, we began to discuss town names, or rather the origin of names. What instigated this conversation was a sign for Indianapolis. That got me to trying to remember where the suffix -polis comes from. -ville is from French, -ton or -town is British, -burg is German, but I couldn't access from the deepest recesses of my mind where in the world -polis comes from. Upon mentioning this, Andi decides to look up other -polis' in the US and as a Kentucky map was handy she starts looking through the list..... All of a sudden she bursts into laughter. Sure enough there is a town called Monkey's Eyebrow, Kentucky! An online search shows we aren't the only ones to have discovered this little oddity, however we may be among the few to visit, as we are planning a road trip in the future ;-) Apparently all that is left is a taxidermist.

In case you are curious, -polis is Greek.

This also got me to thinking of other interesting towns and places. I think the most fun festival I ever went to was the Loachapoka Syrup Sopping Festival lt is an unusual and tasty event to say the least. One of the best parts.... It's really fun to say. The name is from the Creek Indians who used to live there and means "where turtles are killed."