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The Soldier and the Squirrel introduces children to the Purple Heart

through a loving story of a friendship between a newly wounded soldier

and Rocky the squirrel with his backyard friends. This story began as a

blog during my first year in bed after my incident. With much

encouragement, it is now a book and has been placed in the

Ronald Reagan Presidential Library & Museum. Please watch the video

on the About page to learn for the Soldier & Rocky are changing children's

lives.

 

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Tuesday
Aug062013

The Shore

The sand washes into my nostrils and backs out into its wave. The grit of the earth coats my cheek. Left by a most difficult year - adrift and weathered. A ray of sun strokes my eyelid as it opens to a blinding sheet of possibility.

Pain brings with it an excruciating clarity. When you can sense nothing outside of your anguish, the world becomes simple. The only thing that matters, is God. When the flesh of your soul is stripped raw, and only He is large enough to cup it in His palm.

I was adrift. In a sea of the most unfathomable pain a person can endure. And I did endure. Because there was no other choice. But to say I didn't think of dying - would be a lie. On April 25th, I wanted to die. The date will be seared in my memory forever. It was the day after my birthday. When the pain became too much for a heart so worn. Then it happened again last month. I wondered how I could possibly survive forty more years. Of this.

But now I lay on the sand. Washed up on an unchartered shore. The smell of salt is familiar and soothing - God's way of telling me I will be okay.

The surgeries this month have lifted my soul. I can lay without wondering if I will survive the day. I can smile and laugh even if still from my bed. I can see the light upon my face for its guidance and not its burn.

Angels carried me to this shore. Hundreds of angels. Some I have never met. They heard a call and answered. Some without offering their name. So I will never know all who brought me to this place.

It is now time to raise my head. To clear my eyes. And ready for what is next. It will be a journey to mend what damage has been done to my limbs. To see if my neck will hold strong. But I sense a strength of spirit and mind. Because I am starting all over again. Like a newborn who knows only that God exists. That love is oxygen. And angels are real. The meaning in life is now clear because the clutter has been washed away in the darkest of seas. A sea I leave behind as I turn to face the mountain against the shore - lifted by wings I never knew were there.


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