Rebekah Speaks

Who could have imagined the events the last week have brought? We were living high on the continuing stream of good news trickling out from Great Lakes, Illinois. Caleb had entered Navy basic training and excelled in every way. We were shocked (pleasantly so) to see him transform from a laid-back, somewhat unmotivated kid to a man with a passion for excellence. He was at the top of his division. He scored perfectly on the tests. He did everything right. Then last Friday, one dime-sized red spot on his belly button turned the world upside down. A referral to a dermatologist and a less than 30 second assessment ended it all for Caleb. When the word "psoriasis" was written on the record, this disqualifying condition rendered him unfit for military service. That's it. End of story. No exceptions. He was removed from his division and placed, like a leper, in a holding compartment (barracks) to wait out his discharge. Despite valiant efforts from my Navy captain brother and t

I had been worried.  Worried that I had been working on a fibular stress fracture in my right leg. I hadn't told anyone about it but had done the research. I had all the symptoms supporting the diagnosis. I decided to head to Ohio anyway and hope for the best. This was to be a special run with my brother. It was to be his first 100-mile finish. I need not have worried about the leg. I left early Friday morning for the long drive to the Mohican State Forest where the race was being held. It was a glorious day, even cool enough to wear a jacket for a time as I sped through the countryside in my little Miata convertible. As the day wore on, I thought about putting the top up to get out of the sun. But, since I had on sunscreen and drank lots of fluid, I figured I'd enjoy the wind-blown look for a little longer. Upon arriving at the busy campground, host to the start and finish, I found my quite, wooded campsite and happily set up camp. My brother, John, had not yet arrived wit

In this age of electronic media, we are held in the clutches of bytes and bylines on social networking sites. Sure, it's convenient. And yes, I wouldn't be able to work without the World Wide Web and everything that goes along with it. But even now as you read this blog, it's not quite the same as tearing open a hand addressed envelope to read news and notes from afar. Our oldest son, Caleb, has been away at Navy basic training since May 18th.  After that last thirty-second phone call saying he had safely arrived, we have been in the dark zone. No phone calls. No email. No Facebook. No nothing. . .until yesterday. Seems that the Navy wants to make an impression on these recruits. They want to strongly convey the idea that they now belong to the United States military. They want these kids to focus on the here and now; not the by-gone days of living at home with mommy and daddy. Our letters took several weeks before delivery to Caleb was complete. And although I suspect

When I was in college I traveled with a singing group to the land down under, a huge continent surrounded by magnificent blue oceans. It was a new experience for me. Though we traveled primarily between Melbourne and Sydney, we had encounters with koalas and kangaroos. We ate meat pies with as much enthusiasm and frequency as fast-food hamburgers here in the States. And, we learned not to push back from the table exclaiming, “I’m stuffed.” To do so would have meant an admission of pregnancy. Probably not the best thing for us single women representing a Christian university. Of course, the trip included picking up various souvenirs for family and friends. Collectible spoons, tea towels with the continent painted on it, and a few cheap pieces of jewelry embedded with small opals, a stone common to the country. But the most intriguing gifts were for my brothers: boomerangs. Now boomerangs are interesting pieces of engineering. Usually carved of wood, the piece is designed to be throw