For the Love of God

“Self-sacrifice is the way to saving yourself." ~ Mark 8:35

During WWII, the death camp Auschwitz became the killing epicenter where the largest numbers of European Jews were murdered by the Nazis.  In order to discourage escapes, Auschwitz had a rule that if a man escaped, ten men would be killed in retaliation.  In July 1941, a prisoner escaped from the camp.  What followed became . . .  well you can decide for yourself.

When the fugitive had not been found, the commandant announced that “Ten of you will be locked in the starvation bunker without food or water until you die.”  The prisoners trembled in terror as ten were selected, including a member of the Polish Resistance.

“My wife, my children,” he sobbed in anguish.  “What will they do?”

Just then a Catholic Priest stepped silently forward, took off his cap, and stood before the commandant.  “I’m old; let me take his place.  He has a wife and children.”

The commandant remained silent for a moment.  Nazis had more use for a young worker than for an old one, and so he gladly made the exchange.

Weeks of unimaginable horror followed as the men suffered the pains of dehydration and starvation.  Some drank their own urine; others licked mold off the damp walls.

The holy man not only offered to be one of the suffering, he ministered to them as well.  He encouraged the others with prayers, psalms, and meditations on the Passion of Christ.  The priest never asked for anything and didn’t complain.  He even pleaded with his fellow prisoners to forgive their persecutors and to overcome evil with good.

One by one the captives died until only the starving priest remained alive.  This annoyed the SS guards as they needed the cell for new victims.  So it was on that day at the age of 47 years, Prisoner 16670, Father Maximilian Kolbe looked cheerfully in the face of the SS men and was executed by a lethal injection of carbolic acid.

Father Kolbe's body was removed to the crematorium, and without dignity or ceremony was disposed of, like hundreds of thousands who’d gone before him, and hundreds of thousands more who would follow.

Father Kolbe's incredible deed became an inspiration for all mankind.  In that desert of hatred he’d sown love.  In the harshness of the abattoir Father Kolbe maintained the gentleness of Christ.  His legacy serves not as an ode to the past, but rather as a beacon of hope for the future.

The cell where Father Kolbe died is now a shrine.  He was beatified as Confessor by Paul VI in 1970, and canonized as Martyr by Pope John Paul II in 1981.  The prisoner, whom St. Maximilian saved, Franciszek Gajowniczek, attended his canonization.

Bless us O Lord, that we too may give ourselves entirely without reservation to the love and service of our Heavenly Father in order to better love and serve our fellow men in imitation of your humble servant, Maximilian.  Amen

The Popsicle Man

"Work hard at everything you do; your reward will come from God." ~ Colossians 3:23

Life is funny.  Just when you think you know the ending, the signs change, the wind blows another way and heartbreaks turn heartening.

Orphaned at 6 months, Fidencio Sánchez had been working to support himself since he was 13, first in the fields of his native Mexico, and since 1990 in Chicago.  For longer than anyone could remember, Sánchez shuffled the streets of Chicago’s Little Village neighborhood pushing a freezer cart stocked with icy treats.

Dogged determination and a permanent smile greeted local customers year round, even through bitterly cold winters.  But at age 89 and on failing knees, he was forced to retire.

Two months later, their daughter and only child, passed away saddling the Sánchez’s with a new set of expenses.  She’d been helping the family pay rent and utility bills.  Since her death, they not only had to absorb those bills but the added cost of caring for 2 grandchildren.

So back to the work he loved.  And his world changed again.

While driving through the neighborhood, Joel Macias snapped a picture of the octogenarian struggling to push his paleta (popsicle) cart.   “God bless you!” Joel said after purchasing 20 frozen desserts.

Later, so moved by the street vendor’s work ethic, Marcias created a GoFundMe page for Sánchez, seeking $3,000.  He hoped to give the elderly man a day or two off.

Within hours, support from 69 countries poured in.   By the end of the fundraiser, 17,500 fans had raised more than $380,000.

Upon receiving the check Sanchez shared his gratitude towards the thousands that heard his story and contributed to the fund.  He also thanked Joel for sharing the photo and opening the account.

Then this humble and faithful Chicagoan thanked his Lord.  “Most of all I’d like to thank God for this miracle.  There’s more than enough money to spread around,” Sánchez added.  “I’m going to give part of it to my church here, part to the church in Mexico.  Some will go to my grandchildren.  Some will go to certain people that are also in need.”

He also hopes to buy a small house and may “indulge” in some hearing aids.  But in the meantime, he’s not quite ready to stop working.  It's what he’s done all his life.  He’ll likely die walking while continuing to ‘sweeten’ other people’s lives.

Work is integral to life, and approaching work as God-given gives us more pleasure in it.  We can work cheerfully and without complaint because we’re working for a Lord who loves us and has redeemed us.  A good work ethic can also be a witness to others.  Others take notice of your efforts and wonder why.

Dear Lord, we know that this life is not all there is; that the best is yet to come if we live for You.  So, help us each day to live our lives in ways that honor and please You.  And let us not forget to give You all the praise and thanks.  Amen

Two Cute

“Teach your children well; they’ll remember it forever." ~ Proverbs 22:6

We met the day I turned seven.  The kindness that he showed me that night bonded us forever and gave me reason to battle on!  Back then, new friends came along about as often as lottery wins.  One moment they were showering me with sympathy; the next they vanished taking every precaution to avoid accidental contact.

I could’ve met a million fabulous kids, all of them with sweet smiles and just the right touch of shyness, but none of them could’ve replaced Dylan’s unexpected warmth.  We made cinnamon pies and chased butterflies?   We ate chocolate-chip pancakes and watched cartoons together until our sides nearly burst.

Forgive me - I’ve gotten way ahead of myself.  Let me back up about 30 years to the night we met for the first time.

I’m Maisie and at way too early an age, my doctor diagnosed acute lymphoblastic leukemia.  My treatments spanned almost 48 months because of complications, mostly infections.  I lost all my hair and suffered nerve damage from some of the drugs.

During my 6^th round of chemo, I actually felt good enough to attend a Red Wings hockey game.  I loved hockey – the skating, the scoring and even the brawling.  The poster I held “Chemo by Day, Wings by Night,” appeared on the JumboTron and prompted a standing ovation from the Joe Louis faithful.

The Wings eventually won but it was Dylan who stole the spotlight that night.  Between the two final periods, he won a stick signed by the team's rookie sensation.  I was so excited that I raced down to see it close up.

I surely didn’t expect Dylan to follow me back to my seat and give me his brand-new treasure.

He told me that I deserved the stick way more than him.  His generous act of kindness still resonates with me nearly three decades and two children later.  You guessed it – Dylan became more than just my best friend.  He became my rock, my inspiration, and eventually my husband.  All for the love of a hockey stick.

This is far more than a story about childhood romance – it’s also a story about great parenting.  Mine gave me the courage to defeat cancer; Dylan’s taught him to be unselfish.

Sometimes our kids don’t listen, make bad decisions, and disappoint us.  They also make us proud, challenge our values, and teach us more than we’ve taught them.

The stronger your relationship with your child, the more their world (including the opinions of their peers) is filtered through the values they learned from us.  And kids with good self-esteem and a stable home life are more likely to pick friends who’re in sync with those values too.

Parenting is the most important job you’ll ever have.  Don’t take it lightly.

Heavenly Father, make me fair, just, and considerate with my children.  Help me grow up with them and provide the guidance needed for them to learn for themselves; to think, choose and to make righteous decisions.  Amen

Sgt. Bravo

“Friends love through all kinds of trouble." ~ Proverbs 17:17

Heroes are born every day.  Some of them even sport fur and greater senses of hearing and smell than their human counterparts.

So when a stray mutt wandered onto a U.S. military compound in Afghanistan, Sgt. Bill Snyder knew he’d found a new friend.  He had the speed of a puppy and the teeth of a grizzly.  And when his tail started to wag, Snyder knew he hadn’t chosen his companion; Bravo (his adopted name), had picked him.  Little did he know how important their friendship would become.

Weeks later after the blazing sun had gone to rest, a suicide bomber snuck into Snyder’s camp attempting to slaughter the 50 or so soldiers sleeping inside.  Bravo eyed the intruder sourly, refusing to let him pass, while barking to alert the soldiers that something was wrong.  Snyder woke and immediately ran toward the entrance.

Unable to get passed the heroic K9, his bomb detonated outside of the barracks, killing him instantly but sparing the lives of the troops inside.  Once the smoke cleared and the chaos subsided, soldiers searched the rubble for Snyder and Bravo.

They found Sgt. Snyder first.  His shrapnel wounds dictated rapid evacuation to the U.S. military hospital near Landstuhl, Germany.

For his part, Bravo also sustained life threatening injuries but was nursed back to health by the troops.  He’d earned the right to be treated like a soldier, so Bravo was “promoted” to share the rank of his original master.

Snyder survived the explosion, but after months of physical rehabilitation, he faced an even tougher battle - getting Sgt. Bravo out of Afghanistan.  Flying an animal to the States from a foreign country involves reams of paperwork, so Snyder was forced to leave his 4-legged buddy behind, knowing he’d likely never see him again.

But the story didn’t end there.  When an animal rescue group heard of the brave pet’s mission, they raised enough money ($21,000) to help Sgt. Snyder fly Sgt. Bravo to his home in Missouri.  Their reunion was epic – for both sergeants.  Praise the Lord!

Dogs that specialize in bomb search and security work day in and day out in Iraq and Afghanistan to help keep our nation safe.  These K9’s are soldiers and much appreciated by our troops.  When our troops return home from war, many come home with wounds that aren’t visible on the outside.  Service K9’s assist those veterans who are handicapped either mentally or physically, to live more meaningful lives.

So while March 13 is National K9 Veteran’s Day, let’s remember these special Veterans tomorrow too, who help protect and preserve our freedom!  On behalf of all Americans, we thank you for your dedication and service!  Woof, woof!

Heavenly Father, thank you for lending these beautiful creatures to us.  Because of them, I’ve learned a little more about loving, a little more about caring, and a little more about letting things be.  It’s one of best ways of knowing You.  Amen

"Always Faithful"

“The Lord saves me from my enemies." ~ 2 Samuel 22:4

On a breezy hillside under overcast skies, the roaring sound of motorcycles and automobiles with glaring headlights rolled into the Veterans Cemetery to honor a veteran the mourners had never met.  Respecting those who had faithfully defended our country, it all came down to a simple motto: “No man left behind!”

Six marines in clean, crisp uniforms carried their fallen comrade’s cremated ashes to the designated spot for one final goodbye.  A Marine Chaplain performed a simple service, noting their brother-in-arms’ honorable discharge and several medals and ribbons.

He’d died at the age of 53 due to congestive heart failure; homeless, indigent and addicted.  Little else was known about his post-USMC life.  With no known relatives to bury him, his cremains sat unclaimed on a shelf for almost 10 months.

Those gathered didn’t know him by face or by name or even by his actions.  But they’d walked in his boots . . . and he’d walked in theirs.  Memories of war billowed through their hearts: Iwo Jima, Chosin, Khe Sanh, Fallujah – Marines at their very best.

The firing of three volleys (one each for duty, honor and country), broke the silence of a wistful brotherhood. Its origin stems from the old custom of halting the fighting to remove the dead from the battlefield.  After the dead were removed, three musket volleys signaled a return to combat.

At the appointed time, the mournful sound of “Taps” echoed across the autumn landscape; pure, soothing, powerful.  It was called "Taps" because it was often tapped out on a drum as a substitute when firing shots was considered unsafe due to the enemy’s proximity.

Our American flag was held taught as the stars and stripes were precisely folded in crisp, tight triangles.  One of the spent shell casing was placed into the folded flag.  The leader of the Patriot Riders, flanked by hundreds of veterans, received the flag, a ritual usually reserved for family.

Next a soloist sang the Marines Hymn, the oldest official song in the U.S. military, immediately snapping the crowd to attention.  “First to fight for right and freedom.”

The marine chaplain’s benediction said it all: “Veterans don’t serve alone, therefore they should not die alone.  A proper burial is something they’ve earned.  And it’s also a way to show our nation's deep gratitude to those who, in times of war and peace, faithfully defended our nation.”

And finally, the wife of one of the veterans bowed before the cremains of the man she never met, so that he’d have one person to say goodbye to him.  ”Semper Fidelis” – always faithful.

“Almighty God, our veterans gave America some of the best years of their lives.  They defended our nation, served the cause of peace, and stood ready to give life itself.  For all that, America's veterans deserve the enduring gratitude of all citizens.  May God bless them and the nation they so humbly serve.  Amen." ~ George W. Bush, 2001

Look Closer, See Me?

“Honor older people, treat them with the respect due your parent." ~ 1 Timothy 5:1

In an overcrowded ward, Daryl sat alone.  The day broke only by the arrival of meals and meds, visitors to other beds, and busy practitioners.  Some are kindly, most are harried, none seem familiar.

Nurses sing his praises when they’ve reason to visit.  “Daryl’s no problem;" "a real gem;" and "one of a kind."  But inside he’s afraid that the love accumulated over the years is evaporating faster than a desert oasis.

Most days, the window served as his only connection to the outside world.  Without it this room felt like a tomb; as quiet as a crypt.  The phone doesn't ring; the door remains shut.  He stares through the foggy glass pane watching folks walk by, delivery trucks and the dull rumble of traffic.

Once a week his daughter stops by with the groceries.  He wished that she’d stay longer but he doesn’t have anything to say that would interest her and she doesn't want to burden him with her worries about money, the kids and a career stuck in neutral.

Occasionally he asks her to move some furniture or make some tea, anything to stop her from leaving so fast.  He can sense her frustration knowing he’s lived long enough to be a burden.

It isn't simply a lack of company, though that's part of it for sure, it's a black hole that grows more powerful with every passing day, swallowing whatever hope he had yet to spare.

When the old man died, many believed he had nothing left of any value.  Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, they found (excerpts from) this poem:

“I’m now an old man. . . and nature is cruel.

It’s jest to make old age . . . look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles . . . grace and vigor, depart.

There is now a stone. . . where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass a young man still dwells,

And now and again . . . my battered heart swells

I remember the joys . . . I remember the pain.

And I’m loving and living . . . life over again.”  ~ Anonymous

The accumulated wisdom of older people serves as a helpful guide to those younger.  Elders make us examine our assumptions and help us make more informed decisions.  But we have to be willing to listen.  Merely hearing the words they’re speaking are just vibrations in the air.

Listening requires that we open ourselves to the meaning of another’s words, that we sincerely enter into the experience those words are meant to convey.

Loving Lord, we lift up the elderly and infirm . . . not only those we know, but all who are facing this stage of their life.  Give them Your peace and grace as they fulfil Your purpose for their lives, in whatever situation they find themselves.  Amen