Category Archives: Guest blogger

The Things We Remember by Jessica Scott

Celebrating, Guest blogger

61Y-FObJaZL._UY200_I asked Jessica to blog here when her most recent book was published.  She agreed–many thanks, Jess–and sent me this blog, this lovely blog.  I did not force her to write nice things about me and am deeply humbled

Lest we lose sight of her latest book, here’s a reminder about Homefront, available APril 7th.51s2OQ0a6ZL._AA160_

And here’s her blog.

I was in Iraq five years ago. It’s amazing how fast that time has flown by. It sometimes feels like I just came home. Other times, it feels like it’s been a lifetime or more.

There are lots of memories from that year. Many deeply embedded that I hope I will never forget. The people. The smells. The dust and the dirt.

One memory that stands out is how Jane wrote to me. Pretty much once a week or more I’d get an email from Jane telling me about her day, her cats or what she and George had gotten into.

Her notes were a small slice of normalcy for me that year. Along with notes from Jane, my home chapter of the Austin RWA sent me care packages that they collected up at every single monthly meeting. Something as simple as bottles of shampoo that could make you feel like a woman for a brief shower. Or CDs of new music to remind you that there was an entire year passing you buy back home.

I don’t have the shampoo. And the CDs have long since been burned onto playlists that I still listen to, especially when I’m writing and need to access those memories.

But I still have Jane’s emails. They’re all in a folder on my computer – the same computer I’ve had since that tour. I haven’t reread them but I’m planning to print them out someday and put them in a folder along with letters I wrote to my husband and letters I received from other people during the war. Because those letters that Jane wrote kept me connected to life back home. They were such a simple thing but they reminded me that not everyone back home was going about their daily lives, ignoring the war.

When I came home from Iraq, Jane sent me and my family a patriotic bear. It was her way of throwing us a parade. It’s gestures like that – simple little things – that make such a big difference in the grand scheme of things.

So Jane, thank you for being there for me. Thank you for writing, for arguing with me when I stepped in it and for being such a dear friend through a particularly rough time in my life.

One of the most amazing people I know

Celebrating, Guest blogger

61Y-FObJaZL._UY200_I’m thrilled to death to announce that the marvelous Jessica Scott will be guest blogging HERE tomorrow.  She’s a dear friend, a great writer, and so much more.

Jess has a new book that’s just out so I asked her to blog.  She graciously accepted.  Homefront was out April 7.51s2OQ0a6ZL._AA160_

Seven or eight years ago, Jessica Scott joined the Austin chapter of Romance Writers of America even before she arrived in Austin.  An active-duty officers, as she and her family were moving to Fort Hood, she posted to our loop so we all got to know her before she attended a meeting.  I didn’t know this at the time, but that’s Jess.  She takes charge.  She does what she needs to do.  She goes straight ahead and I admire her greatly for that.

Jess knew she wanted to write novels about her Army family.  She set that goal and worked hard and look where she is now: twice a USA Today bestselling author with eleven published novels; wife of a retired NCO,  mother of two, and manager of a zoo-full of pets and–again–so much more.

Here’s her biography from amazon.com  Jessica Scott has written for the New York Times At War blog, War on the Rocks, PBS Point of View Women and War and has been featured in Esquire Magazine as an American of the Year in 2012. She has published 11 novels and novellas about soldiers returning from war and has hit the USA Today Bestseller list twice. She has compiled two nonfiction projects about her time in Iraq and the return home.

She has recently completed a master’s Degree in sociology from Duke, Masters Degree in Telecom Management from University of Maryland University College, BA in Cultural Studies from State University of New York.

She’s been featured as one of Esquire Magazine’s Americans of the Year for 2012.

WOW!

Down many paths we travel in a lifetime by Roy N. Martin

Favorite Scriptures, Guest blogger, Holidays, , , , , ,

ImageDuring my lifetime, many Biblical passages have guided me. Some have become so much a part of my thoughts that they often surface to give insight into a particular situation. Deuteronomy 30:15-20 is one such passage. This passage is near the end of the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Bible. It represents Moses’ final words to the people of Israel, where he interprets God’s will for them. The image I carry in my mind is more personal but which is consistent with the message to that ancient people. This week of Advent, I want to share my personal reflections.

In verse 15, God speaks: “.. .today … I have set before you life and death…”

Yes, today there are two paths I might follow.

God’s message is always present, for “today” is always with me. No matter how hard I might try, I cannot escape the meaning of these words. They speak to me on all past “todays.” Every “today” in the future God’s message will again challenge me.

Yes, today there are two paths I might follow.

The two paths may be interpreted in ultimate terms, the culmination of one’s sojourn, “Life and Death” with capital letters. I prefer to think of these words as referring to various paths we pursue. Consequently, my journey may consist of actions which affirm blessings in others and in myself, the paths of life. Or my actions may lead to adversity for myself and for others who are affected by my actions, the paths of death.

What actions mark the paths of life and what actions mark the paths of death are known to me, through God’s continuous messages to me throughout history, as recorded in the Bible, in the life of Jesus whom we know as the Christ, and in the living testaments of fellow travelers who have heard the same message.

Yes, today there are two paths I might follow.

God gives me the choice to make. Having provided all the data I need, God permits me to choose how I shall turn. On most days the choice is easy and does not require much thought, for I am traveling familiar territory. I trust past decisions to be sufficient for me to choose the paths of life. On some days, I must evaluate past decisions to determine whether the circumstances under which they were made still exist or whether new circumstances suggest alternate paths of life. And then there are those days, thankfully infrequent, when I am confronted with a situation which calls for painful choice-making, guided by long hours of reflection and prayer. And there are times when I am confronted with realization that I have been on a wrong path, and need to change.

No matter the circumstance, the choice is mine to make, and clearly it is my choice.

And God continues in verse 19: “Choose life…”

While I am free to choose the path I will take, I do so with full knowledge and faith that God has clearly defined what I am to do. Divine Concern cares whether I make the right choice. Divine Wisdom understands that I, a human with limited knowledge, will make wrong choices. Divine Grace forgives my transgressions, providing opportunities to return to the path of life.

Divine Love etches that Concern, that Wisdom, that Grace in my life, and in all of your lives, through the Life of him whom we call Jesus the Christ.

Welcome the Kingdom with Song by the Rev. Wayne Barnett

Celebrating, Guest blogger, Uncategorized, , ,

Isaiah 35: 1,10

images35:1 The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; … For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert;  35:10 And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

Did you ever wonder way we sing Christmas Carols? One year I put a sign on our outside church bulletin board that read we sing Christmas Carols. I did it because in most U. S schools children are not allowed to sing Christmas Carols

When Israel suffered complete destruction, when the land was barren, when the temple lay in ruins Isaiah promised a complete reversal. When outward circumstances offered no hope, Israel hoped. The Judeo-Christian hope is different from a wish. When I buy a lottery ticket I have the wish my number will win, but I do not start spending the money. But when my dad was living he often told me he would send a check to Transylvania for my living expenses. With his promise I could start spending the money even though I didn’t have it. You cannot count on a wish, but you can base your life on hope. Christians and Jews do not wish, they hope even when all seems hopeless.

Christians believe that the highway into the heart of God comes when a person lets Christ into their life. When a person’s life is touched by the finger of God, dryness and dust are replaced by moist, fertile soil. In place of living death life blooms.

You and I have seen persons who had no vision, no hope, no direction, and who lived in hopelessness find a highway into the heart of God and that highway was Christ.

We have seen Christians crushed beneath seeming unbearable burdens, and yet those Christians have gone on believing that good can come out of evil, believing that a birth in a stable is the sign that God is with us no matter what because that stable is the cross – resurrection from another perspective. We believe that the suffering and death of Jesus Christ has conquered all suffering and death. We trust the angels had good reason to sing for joy in the skies over Bethlehem. We believe that beneath the wounds and scars that life inflicts on us all, deep at the heart of eternity, joy still awaits us in the presence of God. On the cross as Jesus was dying he said, “Father into your hands I commend my spirit.” On the Cross, Jesus let us know even as he died he experienced God’s love but also looked forward to the heavenly banquet that he promised his disciples when he said, “This is my blood of the covenant poured out for the remission of sins. I tell you I will not drink it againimagesuntil I drink it anew with you in the Kingdom of God.” It is that kingdom that lives in us now and that we look forward to in eternity and that is the reason we sing Christmas Carols. Joy to World, The Lord is come. Let earth receive her king let every heart prepare him room.

Advent blogs

Celebrating, Coming up, George, Guest blogger, Holidays, Uncategorized, , ,

imagesI asked two special friends from George’s and my long-ago days in seminary to write a blog for Advent for another point of view than mine.  Both of these men were George’s roommates while he was in seminary.

Wayne Barnett and George were friends from CYF Conference (summer church camp) and all through college.  Wayne and his wife LaDonna were parts of our lives for many years.  George performed their wedding and Wayne was George’s best man.   He retired from a long pastorate in Kentucky but still keeps busy.   His blog will be up this afternoon.

Roy Martin lived down the hall from me in seminary until he moved in with George and Wayne.  We lost touch but with the magic of Facebook discovered each other–and Roy’s wife–two or three years ago.  Roy retired from years of ministry but keeps busy by going back to school, picking up degrees and learning things he shares.   His blog will be up December 16.

I cannot tell you the joy I feel that these two ministers and dear friends agreed to write a blog for Advent.

My Mom, the Rustler by Diane Perrine Coon

Celebrating, Guest blogger, Love, , ,

Guest blogging today is George’s favorite sister, Diane, a fabulous historian.  She’s writing about her mother, one of the finest people I’ve ever know.  Thanks for the memories, Diane.

Ollie

My mother was  the most law abiding person I ever met.  This trait went beyond any ethical positions in her beloved nursing career, it went beyond taking the AARP safe driving course every year between 55 and 90 when we took the keys to the car away because her peripheral vision was gone. And it reached beyond using both hand signals and flickers when making turns.

However, Mom was also the biggest rustler I ever met and I think I was the cause of all her lawlessness. One year after I’d moved to Petersons guidePennsylvania, I gave Mom Peterson’s Field Guide to Eastern Songbirds, and she had my brother build three bird feeders and squirrel guards plus the metal cages to hold suet for the winter birds. She enjoyed the Field Guide so much, I gave her Peterson’s Field Guide to Eastern Wildflowers the very next holiday. And therein lies trouble, trouble, trouble.

You see, Mom’s property sloped downward in the back toward the creek that flowed through the subdivision. She and Dad had purchased a double lot, about an acre and a half.  She fenced the entire lot so the dogs could run freely and safely. She enjoyed planting flowers and never met a tiny tree she didn’t love, right where it planted itself. So the property was abloom all spring, summer and fall. Although she had a tendency to plant the tall flowers in front of the small flowers so from the road, it was a little strange. But she looked at her birds at the feeders and her flowers from her windows in the house, so it made sense to her.

ollies yard

Back to Peterson and his wildflower guide. Mom’s property had a steep fall away from her garden area down to the creek and it was very shady with old trees – walnuts, oaks, maples, elms. Her decades of theft began on a trip to Cumberland Gap in Kentucky. On the way home, she made Daddy stop five times so she could take a trowel and dig up wildflowers along the trowelroad. She was very well prepared with plastic bags and wet paper towels. It wasn’t until five years later that I came to Kentucky in the Spring; prior years I’d always come at Thanksgiving or Christmas. Proudly Mom showed me the delicate trillium, the snowbells, the jack in the pulpit, the dog-toothed violets, Virginia bluebells, tiny flowering grasses, coral bells, lilies of the lily of the valleyvalley, wild strawberries, and dozens of other gentle splashes of color as the sunlight cascaded through the budding trees.

Oh my God, my Mom had become a wildflower thief. “Mom, this is against the law,” I said quite self-righteously (having just received my 10th point on my New Jersey drivers license for speeding across Princeton.) “No it’s not,” she insisted. “I’m reforesting.” “What?” I said with emphasis. “I’m taking the hillside back to its original Kentucky shade lands.” And then she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head like a sparrow…subject closed.

There in the midst of a subdivision where most of the people poisoned the creek with lawn care pesticides so their lawn could gleam like a golf course, where all the house plantings were carbon copies of each other, where they hung planters of cascading annuals to brighten the flowerbox2greenery, my Mom had recreated God’s natural woodland. So I decided, since I was the one who gave her Peterson’s Field Guide, I’d simply testify to her innate goodness if she was ever arrested for wildflower rustling.

The reason this all came to mind was this week when my daughter said she was starting to look for perennials for the shady part of her property. I almost sent her Peterson’s Guide to Eastern Wildflowers….No, No, No.

Image 2

* * *  I need to add to this.  When Ollie (my mother-in-law and Diane and George’s mother) visited us in Missouri in 1968, she did the same thing.  Wherever we took her and Grandpa, she had her trowel and box in the trunk.   She’d make George stop while she leaped out to dig up a plant she’d not seen before.  She wasn’t only reforesting the hillside to its original Kentucky shade lands,  she was also reforesting is back to Missouri shade lands.

Also, by the time she’d lived in that house for forty years, the double lot was covered with live Christmas trees she’d planted every spring.  They’d reached enormous heights .  Other trees filled in.  This meant the interior of the house was very dark and mowing the lawn was like going down a slalom slope, but she was happy and that, really, is what counts.

Image 3

 

 

Jessica Scott

Guest blogger, ,

 

Back-to-You-Pre-Launch-Blitz-1My dear and very talented friend JESSICA SCOTT has a new book–BACK TO YOU– coming out tomorrow.     I’m participating in the pre-launch blitz for that book.  If you haven’t read her novels, you can look forward to a great read.   She’s in the Army and, in my opinion, is the finest author of military fiction writing today.

Below is an interview with her sent to me by her publisher, Hachette, which is also my publisher but in a different imprint.

You first introduced Trent and Laura a few years ago and readers have been eagerly awaiting their story for a few years.  Did you always know when you first created them in BECAUSE OF YOU that this was how their story would play out? 

I knew they would have a story to tell but telling their story in this particular way, no I didn’t intend it. It took finding my amazing editor along with multiple attempts at trial and error to get them just right. I’m a nervous wreck about their story, but I’m also really excited because I’m very happy with how their story turned out. Plus, hamsters. Who can argue with that, right?

BACK TO YOU is the incredibly emotional story of a marriage at the breaking point.  What or who inspired you to write this story? 

I remember standing in the ops one day and one of the guys was on the phone with his wife. He was telling her how much he was sorry, how much he didn’t want to work late. Then one of the other guys remarked that he always says that but he doesn’t ever mean it. So I had this idea of a man who was so driven to get back to war that he let his entire family and personal life suffer, but I also wanted a wife who people could relate to as well. Laura is Trent’s perfect complement.

In your own personal life, you’ve been the soldier that has deployed to a war zone and the spouse that stayed home and has taken care of the family on the home front.  Which was more difficult for you in your experience?  And why?

That’s a much bigger topic than we have time for but I’ll say this: each one has its own unique challenges. Being deployed, not being able to get home when your kids are crying that they want mommy, that’s brutal. It rips your soul out. But then coming home and your reality doesn’t live up to the fantasy? In some ways I think it’s worse, and that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. As far as being the wife at home? I remember vividly lying awake at night, obsessively checking to make sure my ringer was turned on. I never cared when he called I just wanted to hear his voice. So which one is worse? I can’t really say. But I’m grateful that we’ve made it through each one a little bit stronger, you know?

Which is your favorite story to write—a reunion romances like Trent and Laura’s where each scene is alive with their own history or a fresh romance where they meet for the very first time and everything is new?  Why?

I love a reunion story. I love the idea of being able to forgive and love the person you’re with right then and not the memory of someone. I’m a huge sucker for reunion stories, honestly. I love the reconnection, the noting of how things have changed, of learning to love that person all over again, especially after a betrayal or things didn’t work in the past.

Trent is such a compelling character and you do a beautiful job of showing his survivor’s guilt and the resulting anxiety and fear that provokes in him.  He’s both so alpha and strong and so very broken.  What inspired you to create such a complicated hero?  A real life person?  A culmination of your own experiences?  What you’ve seen yourself in the army?  And were you at all concerned about the way readers would respond to him? 

Trent is going to be hard for people to read, I suspect. He comes close to crossing some boundaries, and I wanted to do that deliberately: I wanted people to understand that coming home from war isn’t cured in a day or a week. It’s a process. Someone like Trent who has bled in combat isn’t going to be okay after a night of magical sex. I know that’s the fantasy, but I wanted something more: I wanted the fantasy that the couple will be strong enough to make it. So for me, Trent is deeply, deeply personal because I’ve seen friends struggle with some very tough choices. And the truth is, there is no magical cure but there can still be a happily ever after if you have someone strong enough to stand with you.

Laura is such an amazing character because she’s done the best for her family at every turn and supported her husband.  But when all communication breaks down with her husband and he just keeps deploying, she serves her husband with divorce papers while he’s serving.  It seems like such a taboo to serve papers while your spouse is deployed—is that true?  And why did you choose to have Laura, the ultimate good wife, respond this way? 

Laura sending Trent divorce papers while deployed I think is the ultimate prohibition. It’s just wrong on so many levels, and yet I wanted to give readers a sense of what could drive someone to their breaking point. Laura is such a strong woman and yet she broke. The strongest of us all have our breaking points. I wanted to show people how hard the war has been on everyone—not just the soldiers deploying but on the kids, on the spouses—but I also wanted to give people hope, too.

Agent Chaos and Fluffy, the family hamsters, almost steal the show with their disappearing acts and they add the perfect amount of cuteness and comic relief.  What inspired you to add them into the story?

Ah Fluffy and Agent Chaos. So for readers who don’t know, we have hamsters. It all started when we volunteered to buy the pre-k class pet. I didn’t realize that this would include home visits for the holidays. Fluffy was the first hamster and she promptly escaped within the first 24 hours. After that, we’ve become a multiple hamster household and well, when they escape, it’s madness because we have dogs and cats who, by some miracle, haven’t actually ever managed to capture one of the little buggers.

This story badly needed something to lighten it up. I thought adding in some escaping rodents would be the perfect thing to break up a really tough interaction between Trent and his kids. They provided a bridge for him to cross, a way to reach them while he was still getting used to them.

Big wedding or small?  Hamsters or dogs?  Sweats or lingerie?

Small wedding. Both hamsters and dogs and cats. Sweats all the way.

Emma and Ethan, Trent and Laura’s kids, are adorable and watching Trent learn how to be a dad again is an amazing thing.  How do you think Trent got so detached from his family? 

Coming home to be a parent again is probably the hardest thing soldiers do. The kids have changed, they have their own wants and needs and, well, they’re not your soldiers. They don’t listen like your soldiers have to. The noise and the chaos and the constant needs are really tough to get used to again, so I think Trent just ran away because it was too much to deal with.

Since this is such an emotionally charged story, was it difficult for you to write?  Or did it come easily?

It was very, very difficult to write. I wanted to push boundaries and create at least a glimpse of what it’s like to come home. I wanted to give readers a taste of the emotions that people go through, the fear, the uncertainty but also the love and the hope and the relief that their loved one is home safe.

Since you’ve been in Trent’s shoes, what is the hardest thing about readjusting to civilian life after a deployment?

The crowds and the entitlement. To this day, I won’t go into crowded stores or wait in crowds. It’s suffocating. And it’s funny because when I first came home, I was so annoyed at people complaining about lines and traffic and school starting. I was just so grateful to be back. Now, I’m much more sympathetic to everyday gripes and groans. I think it’s just part of how we get through our days.

Some Holiday Sparkle

Guest blogger, Holidays, ,

DSC01807Patricia Johns is guest blogging today.  Her novel, hisunexpectedfamily His Unexpected Family,  was published by Love Inspired this summer.   Yesterday, I posted her bio and a blurb about this novel on my blog.   Today she writes about the miracles of Christmas.   Take it away, Patricia!

Some Holiday Sparkle

My son announced to his Kindergarten teacher that Santa wasn’t real. I got a distressed email from the teacher, asking me to make sure that he doesn’t tell any of the other children, lest their Christmas magic be ruined.

I fully understood, and I didn’t want to ruin the fun for the other kids, so I had a talk with my son about playing along with the Santa Claus game. I certainly didn’t want to be the Scrooge! And our family is big on Christmas–the tree goes up right after Halloween!

But it got me to thinking. A lot of these kids were being raised without any belief in God.  Yet there is such a protective instinct around the idea of Santa, wanting these little ones to hold onto the possibility of Santa for just a couple more years.

Santa… He knows when you’re naughty or nice. He loves you, and he knows the desires of your heart. He adores children and he wants you to be good. He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. You aren’t alone when there is Santa Claus.

The parents know that one day their children will no longer believe in Santa, but they don’t want to tear that away. Not yet.

I didn’t feel the need to tell my son that Santa was real. As Christians, the sparkle and mystery doesn’t vanish after the tree comes down. Christmas lasts all year when you believe in God. Miracles, angels, God dipping down and touching Earth… We live in the sparkle of Christmas magic every single day!

That’s the true gift we receive during the Christmas season–a reminder that we are not alone, that Someone knows when we are sleeping, and when we’re awake. And cares.

Merry Christmas to all of you! May your Christmas be filled with sparkle and the possibility of miracles around every corner.

Buy links:

http://www.harlequin.com/storeitem.html?iid=28589

http://www.amazon.com/Unexpected-Family-Mills-Boon-Inspired-ebook/dp/B00BK0XH0O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385398508&sr=8-1&keywords=His+unexpected+family 

 

 

An introduction to Patricia Johns

Guest blogger, Holidays, ,

Tomorrow, Patricia Johns will be blogging here on Christmas.  Patricia is a writer for Love Inspired, the line that published four of my novels.   Because she’s a writer of inspirational romance, her blog will be. . . well. . . inspirational.   Today I want to intruduce you to Patrici and have her tell you about her  novel, HIS UNEXPECTED FAMILY

About the book

hisunexpectedfamilyWhen a baby is dropped into her life without warning, Emily Shaw is overjoyed. It’s a bit odd that her distant cousin named single Emily as guardian, but she’s thrilled all the same. She never thought she’d get to be a mom. Another unexpected blessing is that baby Cora arrives in the arms of police chief Greg Taylor. Despite all three of them instantly bonding, Greg has promised himself he’ll never be a father. And now Emily’s smooth-talking relative is challenging her right to raise Cora. Will Emily have to make an impossible decision between the child she already loves and the man who loves her?

About Patricia Johns

Patricia Johns lives in Alberta, Canada, where the winters are long and cold. She doesn’t complain, though, because it leaves her plenty of time to write, enjoying that winter wonderland from the warm side of the DSC01807window.

She has her BA in English Lit and has been writing seriously ever since. She has written numerous novels in other genres, but her true love is for romance writing, where she can be the unabashedly hopeless romantic she’s always been.

Buy links:

http://www.harlequin.com/storeitem.html?iid=28589

http://www.amazon.com/Unexpected-Family-Mills-Boon-Inspired-ebook/dp/B00BK0XH0O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385398508&sr=8-1&keywords=His+unexpected+family 

 

A friend remembers George

Celebrating, Church, Guest blogger, , , , ,

Carol Sue Barnett is the sister of George’s long-time friend Wayne.  Here she shares her thoughts about George, Wayne, and their friendship.  That’s a young Wayne Barnett to the left.

Jane is correct that my older brother Wayne Barnett is a fine man, but I’d like to add that his friendship with George immeasurably contributed to Wayne’s accomplishments, as a student and as a minister.

Our parents raised us in the church, as they had been raised. On both sides, church had been an integral part of family life for generations. They were Disciples, Baptists, Methodists, and Presbyterians, but few lacked any church affiliation. Our Grandfather Barnett’s maternal grandfather had been an itinerant Baptist preacher. Upon Granddaddy Barnett’s parents’ marriage in 1859, his mother adopted his father’s church and became a Disciple (Christian Church, Disciples of Christ), the church in which we were raised.

To my knowledge, Wayne is the family’s first formally trained and ordained minister. (Our younger sister Sally Barnett McClain is the second.) I remember well Wayne’s teenaged announcement that when he grew up he wanted to be either a test pilot or a minister. This didn’t make much sense then, but now it does: both professions are all consuming and life threatening. Wayne’s myopia precluded his first choice. But his vision was sufficiently far-sighted for the ministry.

And that’s where George comes in. Wayne, not an exceptional student in high school—he was popular and busy with social activities, and he put in long hours on the family farm—has always credited George with teaching him to study. Once Wayne started spending hours each day with George, away from the farm’s demands, his analytical processes matured, and his grades improved.

But, even more important to his chosen profession, Wayne, through caring for George, learned attentiveness and compassion, essential qualifications for a minister’s calling, and they both approached Wayne’s job of getting George around and through his day with two other essential qualifications—good humor and determination. This was poignantly evident in LaDonna and Wayne’s marriage ceremony, at which George officiated. Upon being asked, George demurred, saying he had never before performed a marriage ceremony and that they should choose a minister who wasn’t disabled. LaDonna and Wayne countered that they hadn’t been married before, and that George should be their minister for that milestone. Faced with this challenge, George met it, courageously and eloquently, as he met all that came his way after his accident.

Accompanying our mother, I attended Wayne’s retirement service and celebration in September 2007 at the First Christian Church of Maysville, Kentucky. George and Jane, living in Texas, couldn’t attend, but they were present.  By his constant example, both in school and throughout their careers, George had helped teach Wayne to minister and to enjoy a loving relationship with his congregation and the community he served. On behalf of our family, I offer our gratitude.