Veteran's Day

I got caught up in watching Saving Private Ryan last night. I have seen that movie a dozen times but whenever I catch it on television I still can’t turn it off. It had special meaning to me last night, on the eve of the first Veteran’s Day following the 2008 presidential election.

I think Saving Private Ryan is easily the best war film ever made, but it’s certainly not the easiest to watch. What makes it so poignant is the portrayal of average American citizens thrown into a conflict thousands of miles from home and often making the ultimate sacrifice for their country. In Saving Private Ryan death is up-close and personal; sacrifice is heroic, and home seems so far away. When the film hit theaters there was a bit of controversy surrounding it for its realism. There were several stories of WWII veterans who watched the film and had to leave the theater during the opening scenes depicting the D-Day invasions of Normandy. The sights, sounds, and graphic depiction of the destruction and death that occurred that day were too real for the men who had been there almost 50 years earlier. I think every American should see this film.

My grandfather was an Army combat engineer in WWII and he served under Patton in the Third Army. He was at Normandy two days after the invasion and marched through Europe building roads, bridges, conducting demolition, and serving in active combat. I have many of the letters he sent home to his mother from Europe and they were all positive. There was never any hint of the terror and sacrifice he saw played out in real time day after day. There was never any sign, until he came home.

My grandfather died on June 6, 1974 (the 30th anniversary of the D-Day invasion) when I was just 3 years old. I have only faint memories of him, mostly through photos and stories. But one thing was clear in talking to those who knew him well during those years; he did not talk about the war. Whatever experiences he had, he tried hard to keep them buried deep inside. For him, there was no nostalgia to be found in the European Theater. Not in movies, books, or parades. He was a proud, quiet man who fought for his country in the greatest war America has ever known. But until the day he passed, and for thousands of other veterans still today, the battles raged on long after he made it home. It’s a battle that has no end on this side of eternity.

Americans are again at war on foreign soil. Everyday Americans with wives, husbands, and children. Mothers and fathers anxious for any bit of reassurance that their child is safe and returning home soon. And everyday, soldiers do return home - some in a flag-draped casket.

No matter our politics, we must never forget that their sacrifice for our country was deep and personal. Their sacrifice is one that cannot be understood in a two minute political stump speech for president, in a footnote under a patriotic picture or at the end of a newscast, or in a small blog entry. Their sacrifice must not become a cliché political statement. It must remain – personal.

Veterans will attend parades and ceremonies today, still able to hear the bombs, feel the fear of war in trembling hands, and see the faces of friends, “Brothers”, in the throws of anguish delivering the ultimate sacrifice upon the altar of freedom. We talk about honoring the sacrifice of veterans on this hallowed day of remembrance, and we certainly should. We should honor the fallen and render them the reverence and appreciation they deserve. And no fewer honors should be given the veteran who returns home with scars that can never be seen with human eyes. The scars that never heal. These men and women sacrifice every day still, thousands of miles from a battle field.

Be proud this year on Veteran's Day. But be humble. And take a moment to be quiet for a while and remember those who are still fighting the battle within every single day.

For them – it’s personal.

May God bless them and offer them a peace that surpasses all understanding.

Emma Beth

How to describe Emma…hmmm…this is going to be tough. Maybe I should start by using her own words describing herself. Ok, I will ask her. Be right back.

Ok…here it is…straight from Emma:

“Baby precious!” “Baby pretty!” “Kiss, kiss, hug.”

That’s pretty much it. She has a pretty strong self-image at this point - people who refer to themselves in the third person usually do.

Emma is redefining the “Terrible Twos”. It was a little easier describing Chase and Hannah as babies. For example, I could tell you that Chase was a “sweet” baby – and those of you who knew him in diapers would know exactly what I was talking about and could still see that quality in him today. And I could tell you that Hannah was an “independent” little girl and you would understand. But so far, Emma Beth defies the concise and known labels of society. She is a “special” child. Not in a “short bus” kind of way…just “unique”.

Maybe listing some vital statistics and profile points would help further your understanding of what we are dealing with here.

Favorite Song: “Cry, Cry, Cry” – Johnny Cash. If you put this song on you better be ready to listen to it over and over again for several hours. A close second is the theme song to her favorite TV show, “Elmo’s World” – which she appropriately changes the words to and sings “la-la la-la, la-la la-la, Emma’s World!”

Favorite Color: “BluePink” ?

Favorite Cartoon Character: Dora the Explorer. I think she thinks Dora is a cartoon version of Myra.

Favorite Hobby: Dancing and Singing

Favorite Dance: “Booty Booty” or “Shake Your Hinny” – which she does every second she is naked. You are especially likely to see this dance just before and just after bath time. She doesn’t have to be naked to do this dance but she prefers it that way. *Disclaimer: The Davis Family in no way promotes “Booty Booty” or “Shake Your Hinny” dancing – this is a purely natural phenomena.

Favorite Movie: Happy Feet – there is mucho “Shake Your Hinny” in this one.

Favorite Toy: Blocks. If she requests that you play blocks with her she expects you to comply. If you do not, suffer the consequences. Hand-Eye Development Tool or Weapon?…your choice!

Favorite Food: Eggs and Weenies…cooked together…Eggs beside Weenies…no good!

Favorite Snack: Gold Fish. (Gold Fish who do not please the baby will be crushed!) Or cat food! Whichever she can get to first.

Favorite Candy: “Mem’s” (M&M’s)

Favorite Fruit: she insists its bananas but every time she takes a bite of one she spits it out…it’s really a toss up between apples and grapes

Favorite Pet: Elvis, of course. She can ride Elvis for almost 3 seconds now before she falls off or he lies down.

Favorite Language: Spanglish. Last week we were walking out the door to take the kids to school with Emma and I bundled her in a blanket. When we walked out and the wind hit her she said, “Ooohhh, is mucho frio afuera Daddy.” I don’t know what that means.

Emma is most happy when: Everyone is home and outside playing together.

Emma is most sad when: She has to take a nap.

Emma’s Short-Term Goals: To learn how to sneak more cat food snacks and write her autobiography.

Emma’s Long-Term Goals: To graduate high school and retire with Mommy and Daddy.

Maybe that will help you round out your perspective of all that is Emma.

All I really know for sure is that no matter what kind of day I’m having, all I have to do is walk in the door and see her flash that million dollar smile as she runs to me with arms wide open and the world is right.

Blessing or curse? The jury is still out – but I think we will keep her either way.

The Spelling Bee

Chase was selected to compete in his elementary school’s spelling bee this year! This is a pretty big honor! The competition is for 4th-6th grade and in Chase’s school 4th – 6th grade consists of about 200 students. Only 23 kids were selected to compete…so it’s a huge honor just to be included in the competition. Chase is an excellent speller(sp?)…unlike his Dad. Understanding the struggles Chase has with his dyslexia makes his accomplishments in this area even more commendable.

So, after several weeks of preparation the big day arrived this morning. Everyone got up early and we had a big breakfast…and after several reassurances and “just do your best and have fun,” speeches, it was off to school.

The competition started promptly at 9am and Rachel, Emma, and I arrived at about 10 minutes ‘till. We entered the cafeteria to see that the administration had reserved two tables in the middle of the cafeteria for parents to sit. Chase and the rest of the competitors were already seated on the stage. Chase waved to us when he saw us and smiled…visibly confident and at ease in his surroundings…he predicted his victory to me earlier that morning. I was feeling pretty good for him…small crowd of about eight parents in attendance…no pressure!

Then over the school intercom came the voice of the principle. “At this time we would like to release all the 4th through 6th grade classes to come to the cafeteria for the Spelling Bee.” “Oh Crap,” I said to myself…at which point all the parents turned to look at me. I looked back and said, “Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud?”

As the 200 plus kids filed their way into the Cafeteria soon the place was packed! Chase’s eyes were the size of baseballs! He looked out at me, slowly scanned over the crowd and then back to me as if to say exactly what I said, “Oh Crap!” – Although, unlike me, I’m pretty sure he kept his inner-dialogue intact. I immediately started praying, “Dear God, please calm him and just let this be a good experience for him…and PLEASE just let him get at least one word right! Amen. Oh…and PLEASE don’t let him throw up! Amen.”

The moderator went through a brief explanation of the rules…after being given the word to spell the competitor was to repeat the word, spell the word, and then repeat the word again. Get it right and you take your seat and wait for the next round – get it wrong and you were to go sit on the steps at the front of the stage. The stage had literally been set - and the first competitor was called. Chase was number seven.

One-by-one the first six kids approached the microphone and the moderator gave them their words. So far, the words for the first round were really simple… “Goal” “boat” “palm”, etc. – Chase would knock these out of the park! The night before he was spelling words like “gregarious” “assimilation” “investigation” and all sorts of other words that I could hardly pronounce, with total ease. I was feeling much more confident! He was going to nail round one!

“Number seven,” the moderator called. Chase slowly rose to his feet and approached the microphone with his entire universe watching. Rachel and I held our breath for the word while Emma picked her nose. “The word,” the moderator said, “is ‘slave’.” Whew! You have gotta be kidding me! This was like asking Michael Jordan to dribble with his left hand! What a relief! Easy one! Chase put his mouth to the microphone and said in a confident voice, “Slave, S-A-, uhh, wait, S-L-A-V-E, slave.” Alright! High fives all around! Round 1 in the bag…thank you Jesus!

Chase looked to the moderator for easy confirmation before returning to his seat…and in what seemed like Matrix-slow-motion, she paused, put her hand over the microphone and leaned towards the judges table for some kind of discussion. “They must be discussing how they should just move Chase right on through to the finals,” I thought, “They have probably never heard a fourth grader spell ‘slave’ with such confidence and poise.” Then she removed her hand, turned to Chase, and explained, “I’m sorry, but competitors are not allowed to begin spelling the word over again once they start…that spelling is incorrect.” And the world stopped! There was an audible exhale and “awww” from the previously quiet crowd. Chase was visibly devastated. He bowed his head and tapped it against the microphone in defeat. Then he was instructed to take his place on the steps as the first competitor to misspell a word.

With bowed head and slumped shoulders he made what must have seemed to be a 20 mile walk across the stage to the first seat on the steps. Not only did he not get past the first round…he was the first one out of the competition…by misspelling a very easy word. He slumped down on the steps of the stage and looked out into the crowd. He didn’t even look in our direction. It must have seemed like the entire world was looking at him and either laughing or shaking their heads in disappointment. With that he simply put his head in his hands and tried hard not to cry – but it didn’t work – the tears came. As he sat there quietly crying he hardly noticed that competitor number 9 (a sixth grader) made the exact same mistake as Chase and quickly sat next to him. Number 9 was very sweet. He noticed Chase upset and leaned over to console him, telling Chase that he had made the exact same mistake. It didn’t seem to matter. Chase was hurting. And so were we.

You have to understand – this was a big deal to Chase! He doesn’t often get the chance to compete in things like this. Hannah had just done extremely well in a similar competition the week before, and he was anxious to do well too. Heck, he was planning on winning the whole thing! Our hearts were broken for him. I felt like I just got kicked in the stomach. The parental instinct almost took over and I was a moment away from walking up to the stage to pull him to the side to give him a hug and reassure him - to shelter him from this pain and humiliation – but I could do nothing – that would have only embarrassed him more. He had to go through this alone. He had to hurt alone. And I had to watch. It was a terrible feeling.

One-by-one the remaining competitors approached the microphone, and one-by-one they either returned to their seats or joined the group on the steps. Chase listened and we listened to competitor after competitor misspell words that Chase could spell backwards and forwards with little effort. I started rehearsing my “Dad speech” in my head – thinking of all the things I would say to him to put this in the proper perspective and make him feel better. “Its an honor just to be in the competition…you were just nervous…next year you will do better because you will know what to expect…several kids made the same mistake you did…number 9 did the same thing and he’s a sixth grader.” But as I watched him it became clear to me that no matter what eloquent words I would be able to muster – this was going to hurt him for a while. And in that moment, I must admit, I was a little angry with God. “Would it really have been that big a deal for God to grant that simple prayer” I thought? “I mean, COME ON…he’s a kid…at least let him get out of the first round!” “At least don’t let him be the FIRST ONE OUT!” This dialogue went on and on in my head for several minutes and even as I sat to write this I was still a little angry.

However, several hours later, after I have become quiet, I can hear God whispering. I don’t know how or why God works the way He does in our lives. I sometimes wish I did. I know there are people out there with real pain and with real questions – I have them often myself. But there is no single magical scripture that takes away all of our pain or completely explains our circumstance – whether it’s a spelling bee, emotional pain, health needs, or any other trial in our lives– God doesn’t promise us an explanation for every hurt and disappointment. He just doesn’t. In His wisdom, that’s the way He wants it. He also doesn’t promise us that our lives will be without pain. However, He does promise in these situations that He loves us (1 John 4:19), He will never leave us (Hebrews 13:5), and that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him”(Romans 8:28). How much more can we really ask for?

I can look back on my life and see where He has been faithful to those promises time and time again. I can reflect on times when it seemed like I had it all figured out and He, in His divine wisdom, had a different plan. Sometimes when my plans didn’t match His and He chose to move my life in a different direction the immediate result was painful - sometimes humiliating. But in hindsight, He was always right and always right on time in my life. I can now see where He was pruning me for something bigger with those experiences – perhaps preparing me to help someone else cope with a similar circumstance, or just allowing me to grow. Sometimes, He was lovingly disciplining me. And with growth and discipline, sometimes comes pain. But that pain is nothing compared to the pain that it took to ransom me from my sinful nature. I sat there and watched Chase in pain and could do nothing and it was killing me. In retrospect, it offers me some slight insight. The pain I felt today watching Chase suffer is an insignificant, microscopic fraction of the terrible pain God must have felt watching his own Son suffer - on a cross for an undeserving and ungrateful people - for me.

Towards the end of the competition Chase began to sit up straighter and observe. He stopped crying and surely felt comfort in knowing that he was not alone – there is, after all, only one winner in a spelling bee. I find that I take comfort in that same idea when I face trouble in my life. If I can just force myself to trust God and to look up from my pain and self-pity long enough I will see that I’m not alone – He is always there! And He has blessed me with the lives of people who care for me, and I know that they are always there for me too – no matter what. And I can be confident that He will always give me the strength I need to just keep going – to just take that next step – sometimes that’s all we can do.

After the winner was crowned and the spelling bee was over I got to give Chase the hug I wanted to rush the stage to give him earlier – and yes, I got to give him the “Dad speech” I had rehearsed. But outside of being disappointed and embarrassed he was already bouncing back. He’s a resilient kid! He was still hurting, and he may for a while, but I could see his smile beyond the pain a bit.

I don’t know what lessons God has in store for Chase during his life and what He will teach Chase from this experience. I could make some pretty good guesses. But there’s something else I have to come to grips with – and that’s the fact that Chase isn’t mine any longer - he’s a child of God. I pray that God will give me a long life with Chase and bless me with opportunities to guide him throughout days like today, but I also have to realize that God has a plan for Chase – and sometimes, I must tearfully learn to get out of the way. That’s a hard, hard lesson for me. But at the same time comforting to know that the same God who has taken such wise and great care of me in my life is doing the same with my son – in His time and in His place.

Who knew a Spelling Bee could be so educational? Chase was the one on stage today, but we both learned some valuable lessons.