Wonderful Feelings

There’s something about Opening Day in the Major Leagues that makes me love baseball. Maybe it’s the fact that I once played, and would still love to play, or maybe its when you crack open the old baseball card collection to see if you have  the rookie card of some new guy on your favorite team. Some of it is the appeal of the clean slate and new hope for your team to be top dog in their division. Whatever it is, its magical. For myself, the magic arrived with the Houston Astros debuting as an A.L. team. This year we got a new owner, a new manager, and very much so an entirely new team. I know I have none of the new guys ball cards, but I went to go check out my stash and see if I had Bo Porter’s card.

When I cracked the book, the long neglected pages stuck together. Dust billowed out as it does here in West Texas when you leave things abandoned for too long. Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio and the 1998 Astros glistened back at me with their gold colored lettering and black letter print. It reawakened that old feeling of walking up to the Astrodome with my parents and sister. Listening to the excited crowd chatter about the game, where their seats were, and who the starting pitcher for the night was. The peddlers carried their wears shouting out “Programs, get your programs! Right here!” I remember sitting in line waiting to get the newest set of baseball cards and souvenirs from them as well. We all lined up at the gates, my sister and I probably impatiently waiting and asking a hundred times if they had opened the gates yet, and descending down to the entrance of the stadium. We walked and we walked, never seeing the field, until the moment which we finally emerged to see one of God’s greatest creations. It was like for two seconds time stood still, as the crowd wandering about us filled their seats and made pregame preparations.

Then that gave way to a new era, one that had the old train station converted into a ballpark, yet left the old train station’s entrance intact. One that saw Orbit die, and come back, and just like Orbit did, maybe this will be the Astros year to come back as well.

Needless to say, wonderful feelings abound when it is Opening Day.

POST

In regards to the name above, no I am not talking about the city in Texas, and if I were you would have already moved on to another blog. Today I talk about nothing in particular. this might be a meandering post, so forgive me if we start off on talking about geo-politics and then end up talking about soap.

So I created one of those Cigar Box Guitars. Yeah total beast up in here y’all. Saying that i could play it would be a lie, although I do a great rendition of “Smoke on the Water” with it. I would totally post a video of it if WordPress allowed me to post videos on the free version of WordPress. Us redneck hipsters just can’t afford 99 dollars a month for a blog. Hell I can’t even figure out how the government pays for all them democrat political posters they got up in here. I mean how did they get enough entitlements to even own WIFI and a computer anyways?

Anyways it only cost me about oh say 3 years of my life, and 60 bucks all together, but that guitar would put chest hair on a skinned coon any day of the week.

I got a compliment this week. My teacher told me that I write like I talk, I told her that nobody had ever said that to me. Then she told me that your not supposed to do that, because formal papers don’t allow for the use of the word y’all religiously.

God knows me so well that when he wants me to perform miracles, he sends hot women to ask me to perform them. This week I cleaned my car.

If you got any good original one-liners post em in the comments section, and feel free to spell stuff wrong, I don’t give a damn!

A Poem

As this moon rises
Another soon will set,
The darkness that encompasses

the sun will  soon repress,

The most endless night will end

At the dark before the morn,
So close your eyes and I will help you find the light after the storm.

All this falseness that you follow,
Is as the moon shines overhead,
it’s not the right light I sent to save
the living amongst the dead.

See as the sun shines in the sky,
There is only one of me,
there are many stars that shine but aren’t the one true Trinity.

Another Untitled Poem

I see it standing there,
Great and big and strong,

It’s the product of my fear,
The pride that holds me tight,
It’s the whisper in my ear
saying a long goodnight,

Tear down these walls
Brick by brick,
Reveal the beauty of the lamb through the thick,
behind these walls
lay best made plans,
just remember he’s got everything in his hands.

Lord I dont see
These plans you’ve made
Behind this wall of mine
It looks like a maze
Where do I go
Can you hear
It seems that my feet
Are not welcome here

Chorus

Then hit your knees
Begin to pray
Look over yonder now
Here we start a brand new day
So

Tear down your walls
Brick by brick
Reveal the beauty of the lamb
Through the thick
Behind these walls
Lay best made plans
Just remember I’ve got
everything in my hands

The Love Of A Father

This is a great story. It’s one of my favorites. This is the story of what some would call an adventure.

This past weekend, I went to Denton, TX with some friends to go to a retreat up there at Camp Copass. Now let me back it up a little here because the story doesn’t start there, it starts a few weeks back.

I am one of those people that will jump blindly into really scary situations,and will sometimes unkowingly do that, and basically that’s when I got a job in  November. I work with a few pretty messed up kids, their dad’s are gone, or the family is split, and in some cases, I am the male that they have most contact with. That’s part one. Part two is this conference gets close, and I don’t want to go. But the people who are going are constantly presuring me to go. They’re saying things like “We’ll pay right now if you will pay us whenever you can! You should definitely go!” I told them “No! I don’t have enough money!” And they kept at it.

Here’s part 3. Now all these different parts are going to combine into different sections of the weekend, and different take-aways from the conference, but just let me get there first. When I go to work I sometimes stop by the chapel to check out and see what word God has for me that day. One day, after I had sinned rather badly, I prayed to him and asked him if I could be forgiven. He answered me when I woke up the next morning, with snowflakes flooding the field behind my dorm. This was as if to say “You are white as snow!” I went to work, I checked the verse of the day, and it was Jeremiah 33:1-3 which speaks of how the Lord, the creator of the earth mind you, came to Jeremiah when he was in bondage and said “Ask me, and I will show you great and unsearchable things that you do not know.” I had been lead to that verse by a feeling. A feeling. So I visited everyday for about a week, and the few times I visited that place, the things I read about, were actually not in the bible, I was guided to the wall to look at the prayer guide.

Now, tensions mount at work, as kids get further and further into their struggles, and come further and further out of them at the same time, the guys push harder.  I find out that the main speech is going to a three part sermon series called “The Love Of The Father” I told myself, “Well, I think I should go, but I still don’t want to, but that’s exactly what I need to go there for. So I can be more father-like to those kids up at work.” I was legitimately scared to go to this bible thing, not having enough money was just a cover to try and hide under. I became a stress ball for about 2 weeks. I was so scared that they were going to force feed me bible verses, cram them down my throat, make me read the bible so much that I wouldn’t pick up a bible for another year. But they cracked me. I would have to pay them guys back. That got even more stress on my back.

I looked at the online registration form and one of the other things than the main speech was workshop time, and we could choose between prayer, discipleship, and life after college. Because of the chapel, I signed up for the prayer one.

To add on to that stress, I watched another sermon with 2 friends of mine, about how kids turn gay, and as it turns out, it’s because they’re sensitive, and dad isn’t he also doesn’t know how to deal with a kid like that. For a non-sensitive child its all good with them just to chill with their dad and watch TV. For a sensitive little guy, they need extra special attention. In fact I believe the guy said the three A’s:

Attention: eye to eye contact with meaningful conversation,

Affection: Yes it is manly to give out some hugs, just to the right people.

Affirmation: “Good job son!” Is actually good enough encouragement.

Anyways, he said that kids will start to look at guys differently through a series of chain reactions that directly corellate with the absence of all three of those above listed things from father. Then he proceeded to explain that for single moms the church is the best place for that boy of hers to find a father figure. So I said “sounds like I have a bit of a Job to do…”

Then Friday came. We left for Denton, and got there safely. Our speaker (named Eddie Broussard) delivered one of the most memorable sermons I have ever heard. My favorite point of his that night was “God was running around the rings of saturn with his son Jesus, thinking about you…… He’s gone so deep that ya know, its like he’s doin a 360 degree dunk while puttin tha ball between his legs and windmillin while he’s blowin his nose! That’s how much God can do!”

I realized that night, that I didn’t have to be a dad for these kids, but I do need to show the Love Of The Father, and exemplify myself as a man of God that will be beside them in their so far young walk with Christ. I will show the three A’s to all, but I will not carry the burden of being their father, because their Father in heaven wants to love on them, and he wants to do it through me!

I also realized that if the first night was that great, then I had a great group of loving people to be around and I was so glad that I went. All those worries that I had, all the stressing out, all the lies were knocked out that night, and that great burden of being a fatherly figure vanished, the weight floated off of my shoulders like angels were carrying it off and tossing it aside.

I was in store for a great weekend! There’ll be more tomorrow!

I Haven’t Done One Of These In A While-

Well its been a while I have had a not serious post, so let’s get on with it! (Insert Monty Python’s annoying crowd of knights and extras yelling “YES! GET ON WITH IT!”) So one day my best friend and I were being stupid and we decided that (more like I decided) that it would be a great idea to take our lives and put them into my own hands and drive in reverse all the way to my girlfriend’s dorm!

So we get into the car and of course I didn’t tell my friend that I had come to the conclusion that I wanted to do this, or else he would have done what any other sane person in this world would have done. That means he would’ve walked to the dorm, but now he’s stuck with a crazy lunatic that’s trying to reenact the movie scene in Cars where Mater is showing off what he can do with his rear and side view mirrors.

Well this Mater can’t drive backwards at all, in fact on the very first street we drove down, I believe I came within an inch of hitting three different cars, on opposite sides of the road. Now thank the good Lord they were parked on this residential street. The next street that we came to is busy by Canyon standards, and by far the busiest street at the College I currently attend.

  So we made it onto the busiest street on campus. Left turns in reverse are no small feat. Well everybody and their oversized genetically enhanced hunting dog drives a truck out in West Texas except for me. I drive a nice little puny car that has a car alarm that mule deer sit and laugh at when their about two feet away from it. In fact I think sometimes they hit my car just for laughs. No I have not had a car accident, but my car alarm has gone off for unexplained reasons. Yes I think Mule Deer have found a way to sort of ding-dong-ditch my car…. anyways back on subject now…. So now there’s a gigantic Ford F-150 superdeluxe extended cab V8 Texas edition (yes it really does exists) that has emerged from a different dorm that we’ve just passed, being viewed in what you would normally consider the front of my car.

So my car really doesn’t go past 20 or so when in reverse, but the speed limit is 45. Not only does this truck not go around me, he rides my front bumper like a rollercoaster. My best friend is praying to Jesus to spare him, while I am laughing histerically trying to find lane markings on the ground to stay inside of. I stayed inside the lines like a 2 year old with a coloring sheet. A little time passes, and the driver of the truck decides that even though watching the guy in front of him fail at driving backwards is funny, it is dangerous, and the club is a whole lot more fun at this time of night than Canyon. So he speeds around me, and I pull into the girls’ dorm parking lot. My now very relieved best friend catches his breath, and we would never tell that story to my girlfriend, or to anyone else until this very point at which both of us consent to the dissemination of this information.

Moral to the story:

1.If I ever get drunk, don’t let me have the keys because I did that when I was sober!

2. There is something to be said for having fun, but do it responsibly.

Lastly for those who were questioning why I had my best friend in the car while I was going to get my girl, we were all going to go to Taco Bell or someplace like that. I offered to drive them backwards, but the answer was a rather blunt ” No! Why would you do that?” And my dreams were smashed and made into sharp objects so I could become emo and cut myself…. but no really I have scars on my arm, but they’re from my sister’s dog!

A little Peice of Heaven

Lots has gone down in my life in the past few weeks. “Lots? What’s lots?” You ask. It’s kinda personal, so I’ll have to leave you in the dark except for one part. Seems my favorite child in my mom’s class is close to death, but the amazing thing is he was supposed to die sometime last year. He was once again supposed to go down this Christmas, but it’s not going to happen, because God’s grace cures more than any chemo, any antibiotic, and he can bring back anything from the brink of death.

I was driving through Canyon, TX today, and I was looking at the dry creek bed that winds underneath Hunsley Hills road, and down below the busy railways of the BSNF railroad, down to Palo Duro Canyon, when this feeling came over me. Of course this feeling caused me to forget that I was
supposed to turn at the next street, but that feeling reaffirmed my belief that God has a plan for us. If he can shape the land we live in, if he did it for a reason, then how much does that prove that he loves us. He made the mountains to show us he can move us, the plains to give us food and clothes, the rolling hills to give us meat, the forests to give us shade and let all the animals have a place to live. Thank you God for your provision.

Hey Dad! Remember that? Well this one’s better!

Hey remember that time Steven said it was almost as if I had terret’s syndrome at the Casting Crowns concert? Well the pigskin revue yesterday was way more awesome!!!!

We had this gigantic pep rally for the football team today, and I got to take my shirt off and yell! It was quite fulfilling! My friends who are of the sort that raise their hands, clap, and sing during church, were looking at me as if I had elephants coming out of my ears! But the group I was with got 2nd place for being the most spirited organization in attendance, so it was absolutely and without a doubt worth it! Go Buffs! And Go Maroon Platoon!

What It’s Like To Be Adopted

Now as to those who are reading this, I have always known that I am adopted and I am a firm believer that telling your child about adoption from the get-go is always a better way to start. Yeah, it hurts some times, yes it makes it difficult many times, especially when you question who you are and what you are doing on this planet. It makes that period of time hard when everybody else has been given assignments to follow their family tree. That’s when the curiosity starts. Then slowly but surely a feeling of not belonging sets in. It sets in even if you don’t know that your adopted. you notice how different your hair is, or why are your eyes a different color, or why don’t I ever just feel like I fit in here?

The best choice my parents ever made was telling me as much as they knew about my adoption without involving the adoptive parents. It is imperative to keep that relationship very limited in communication,maybe a yearly letter or so to the birth mother, unless somebody comes down with some terrible life threatening disease or a hereditary disease such as cancer, diabetes, heart attack, or stroke, then it is imperative that you know that stuff. Now certain questions will arise, such as where do I come from?  What are they like? The where do I come from question is pretty important, and can be answered, but do wait until your child is 18 to answer that second question. Now that’s if you have an open adoption, but like I said in those you really want to keep the communication down to as minimal as possible. It is important that they have the first 17 years to connect with you the parents that have raised them up. As to a closed adoption, when they are 18 they can find out, generally through the agency, names and addresses. There they can also receive some pre-meet-the-other-family counseling and direction.

18 is really a tough year for adopted people sometimes, so do be sure to let your child know that you support them, and that you love them. Also try to get them to make a big support base, not by forcing them, but by saying things like “We always have our pastors to talk to, or our church friends, and don’t forget your best friend to confide in too. This stuff is not easy to just hide inside yourself. In fact really if someone does that it makes it so much harder.”

Let me just tell you a little about my experience being 18 and getting to know my other family:

Now none of this is intended to offend anybody. I am sorry if it does, but it is the way that I feel things are right now. If you also feel that it was a private matter, I am sorry, like I said you need a big support base because things like this do pop up randomly and they do really hurt.

This is an e-mail I sent to someone explaining what I have discovered.

I was adopted. I didn’t know that any of the following had happened until this e-mail was sent to me last February. The reason I sent you this is because I really want to meet my biological family. I also just wanted you to preemptively know this stuff too.

So my mom (biological), D., and my father (biologically), T., were married. They had my sister S. and I and gave us up for adoption. D. brought a kid from a previous marriage named C.. T. brought in two kids from another marriage, one named J., and the other Aubrey. So and had my sister and I. D. put us up for adoption, and had us while T. was out of town, giving us to my legal parents Da. and C..  Now I absolutely do love and respect those two for number one not waiting til my biological family contacted me to tell me I was adopted, and 2 for being as straight up awesome as they are. I also love and adore them very much because they had to put up with a lot to get my sister and I to where we are now, but now for more of the story.

So D. and T. both went through a very tough divorce. She said that he mistreated C., and then she filed for divorce, while she was in the process of divorcing him, she had the two of us.  They got back together. They had another kid named J. who is my full blood brother. They kept him. Once again they divorced. T. kept Aubrey and J., D. kept C. and J..  I had learned of all of this in about two months, because after the 18 birthday, the biological parents can contact the kids and so can the biological brothers and so forth.  

So February 3^rd, 2010 I open up my e-mail inbox, and prior to this day I had known that J. and Aubrey did exist. I hadn’t talked to any of that side of the family yet.  

I was going through my e-mail and I found this again. I know it might seem a little dramatic me sending this to you, but I gotta tell you. To know someone it is imperative to know what they have been going through.

Sent: Wednesday, February 02, 2011 11:44 PM
To: PAB
Subject: From D.~Letter from J. to Aubrey C.

Phillip,

J.’s Facebook page is only open to friends but you can access anything that comes from him or T. by going to J.’s Home page & reading!

I have cut & pasted what he wrote on his page in this email for you!

Aubrey Esther Carr March 6 1984 – February 3 2000.

Has it really been 11 years? Doesn’t feel like it.

You were taken way too soon and you are loved and missed dearly.

Letter to Aubrey

by J.Carr on Wednesday, February 2, 2011 at 2:17am

Aubrey,

Today marks 11 years since you were taken from us. Thursday February 3, 2000 will forever be ingrained in my memory.

Ever since that day, I have felt guilty as hell that I was able to save myself but was unable to save you. Please believe me, I would have done ANYTHING to save you.

That day, you were walking up the driveway as I was riding my bike to church and I remember you asked me “Hey is the door unlocked?” My last words to you were “Yes it’s unlocked and Mom is home”. Little did I know as I rode away, that those would be the last words I ever said to you. Since that day I have always regretted not telling you how much I love you or how great of a big sister you were. I regret like hell not being there for you when you needed me the most.

After I came home, I saw that the door to your room was closed and your light was off so I thought you were taking a nap. Mom followed me to the back of the house and I went into my room and sat on the bed looking at CD’s because I wanted to listen to music while I did my homework. At first I wanted to lay down on my bed, but something told me not to (to this day I think it was you watching over me). So I’m sitting there looking at CD’s and I look up, and Mom is pointing a gun at me. She fires, I fell on the ground, and for a few seconds I think this is some sort of joke. I sit back up on the bed, look down, see a hole in my shirt, look behind me and see a hole in a pillow, and I realize what happened. I picked up a book and throw it at her, mom left and I decided to try and get out of there. I made it as far as the living room before I collapsed on the couch. Mom walked into the room, I saw her and told myself that if I died, the police and the family would know that I had fought back and at least tried to escape. Luckily for me, she did not have the gun anymore. Mom talked to me for a few minutes and then called a neighbor. A few minutes later, she called 911 on herself. The cops arrived and asked me who shot me. I told them that Mom did. The cop got on her radio and said “Suspect is on scene and is going into custody”. At that moment, the paramedics came busting into the house, got me into the ambulance and stabilized me. After being put in the ambulance, I asked a ton of questions. “How is my sister?”,

Am I going to have surgery?”, “Am I going to be ok?” “Why aren’t we moving?” etc… The Paramedics wanted to keep me calm so they told me that you were going to be ok and we were waiting for you to be loaded into the other ambulance. Looking back, I know they already knew that you were gone. The Ambulance ride is pretty much a blur. But I do remember being wheeled into the hospital and there was a news crew standing by the ER Entrance (I later saw footage of myself going into the hospital…It was pretty surreal). I also vividly remember waking up from surgery and Uncle John was standing next to me on the right side of the bed near my head holding my hand, Aunt Bev was on the right side near my feet, and Rev. Worsham was on the left side by my head. I woke up and looked at Uncle John and the first words out of my mouth were “Where’s Aubrey?”. And I have always loved and respected Uncle John for telling me the truth that night. He flat out told me “Aubrey is gone”. I was all drugged up but I remember saying “Oh ok.” and went back to sleep.

Little did I know that as I was being taken to the hospital, friends of ours were gathering at the WOOD to pray for us. They even saw the ambulance that was taking me to the hospital. I can’t even imagine what that was like seeing an ambulance that you knew one of your friends was in go by…

The next few days I have almost no memory of,  but I do remember certain parts. I remember a nurse (I think her name was Mrs. Jackson), she came into my room every day when I was in ICU to change the sheets. Now obviously I couldn’t get out of bed yet so it SUCKED!! Every day as she changed the sheets, she would say over and over “God Loves you and has a plan for you”. That simple phrase, over and over, helped me become a Christian.

Granddad and Oma were unable to see me for the first 2-3 days. And I totally understand. They had an all of a sudden “windfall of crap” fall down upon them. Obviously they knew from the beginning that you were gone, and I was ok. So before they could see me, they needed to make sure that Mom was ok and would be properly represented. During the entire ordeal, Granddad and Uncle John both took 2 weeks off work to make sure everything would be ok. For 2 weeks they pretty much ran around Houston from 5am-10pm making sure Mom was represented, I was ok, and funeral arrangements were made. For the first few days they made sure Mom had a good lawyer who would take care of her and help look after her interests. After Mom was taken care of, they made sure I was good to go. The only reason they didn’t look after me first was because they knew I was in one of the best hospitals in the world (Ben Taub). After Mom was taken care of, they had to look after me custody-wise. By that time, my Dad had found out about what happened (He was contacted by Dr. Culbertson, Sr Pastor of Lakewood UMC at the time), and had hired a lawyer to contend for custody. And fortunately, everyone reached an agreement that I should stay with my Granddad.

Dad, that is nothing against you. You know that I love you no matter what. From the day you arrived, you stayed by my side until I was discharged. I remember the TDCJ officers who came by and told us that we were being thought of and supported. But Houston is where I grew up. Houston is what I knew. Houston is were my friends were.  So I’m glad that I stayed with Granddad. But I’m glad that you and I are as close as we are. It’s partially because of you that I joined the military. I remember as a kid, you drove us around in your Bronco listening to Full Metal Jacket style Marine Corps Cadence, took us to visit the Battleship Texas and the San Jacinto Monument, and told us stories about driving the M60 Patton tank in the National Guard. Remember that time you and I found a used 155mm (I think) tank shell in Grammy’s trailer? And we also found some Great Uncle’s combat gear from WW1…. Dad, you taught me a lot about service. And I am very proud to have learned those lessons.

I remember 3 days after the shooting. Sunday Feb 6th. Lakewood probably had the usual morning services. But your Memorial Service was that evening. I remember Dr. C came to visit me (either that day or the day before) and I was doing a breathing exercise and couldn’t talk, but when I saw him, I gave him a thumbs up. During your memorial, Dr. C mentioned that, and had everyone give ME thumbs up. I also remember Nate Williams and some of the Jr High Youth Group kids came to visit me that day before the memorial service. I’ve heard the tape of the Memorial, and Brion Daugherty…..I heard you on the tape man you did a GREAT job singing. I know you broke down and couldn’t finish…but man I don’t blame you. If I remember correctly, the song was “If You Don’t Wake Up Tomorrow” it was one of Aubrey’s favorites. A few days after the Memorial, Nate and a bunch of the Jr High guys visited me again and gave me a photo of the Jr High Bible Study Group (Nate Williams, Darci Freeman, Jadd Joseph, Randy Shives, Cooper Sims, and a bunch of other people I don’t remember. Part of the photo was somehow ruined by water, but I still have it.  And everyone in that photo was giving ME a thumbs up! My Thumbs Up, was my way of telling everyone “Hey I’m ok”. Their Thumbs Up back, was I guess a way of saying “We are with you”.

A few days later Mrs. Betty stopped by with a special visitor….our boy Wayne Kerr. Wayne gave me a worship CD with a song of his on it. I was listening to that song when I came up with an idea. “Hey what if Wayne wrote a song for Aubrey”. So after I got out of the hospital, I emailed him, and he said “Man I will be glad to write a song for her and I will definitely pray about it”. He wrote “At The Narrow Gate” for you and it is on the Apple Core CD. He sang that song at the Apple Core CD Release party and EVERYONE from the WOOD started crying. On the CD jacket it has the words to the song and it also says “Matthew 7:13-14 Enter through the Narrow Gate, wide and broad is the gate that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life.” “Dedicated to the memory of Aubrey Carr…see you soon”. And it has a picture of a little girl dressed as an angel walking up the aisle of a church. To this day, I have a hard time listening to that song.

Less than 2 weeks after the shooting, I was released from the hospital and went back to school. At the time i was hoping to be out of school for like 5-6 weeks. But now looking back, I’m glad that my life went back to “normal” so soon. I was able to get back to my friends. I remember that the Sunday after I left the hospital, there was a 121 service at church. 121 was a Church youth band with Ryan McDaniel and Brion Daugherty. They named it 121 after Philippians 1:21 “For to Me, To live is Christ and to die is gain”. That night, during the service, I went up to the altar and prayed for the first time since the shooting. My friends Darci Freeman and Landyn Goedde came up and prayed with me that night, as did I’m sure a lot of other people. But I very vividly remember those two being there. And that really meant a lot to me.

When I got back to school, it was very surreal. Everyone looked at me like “Holy crap that’s the guy who got shot”!! The “cool kids” wanted to hang out with me at lunch and my friends probably felt kind of alienated. I remember a few days after I went back to school, the family held your gravesite funeral. The family was there. Katie Hines was there. The Smith family was there. And my friend Don Diehl was there. Don, I don’t think you knew my sister at all. but brother man, thank you for being there for me. That is something I have always appreciated, yet probably never said Thank You for.

For several years after the shooting, I really wanted nothing to do with my mom. She could have died in prison for all I cared. And I think everyone understands that. But my Granddad, the great guy that he is, kept asking/pressuring me to visit her. So in 2007, while I was home on leave before reporting to the USS Nimitz, I agreed to go see her. That was probably the most rewarding day of my life. A lot of people have asked me if I’ve forgiven my mom. The Bible tells us to forgive those who have hurt/done wrong to us. I forgave my mom for what she did to me several years ago, because I’m still here. But it wasn’t until the last time I saw her (2010) that I know that I forgive her for what she did to Aubrey.

How do I know I forgive her for what she did? As our visit ended, we stood up and I hugged her and without thinking I said “Mom, I forgive you for what you did. You are up for parole in a few years. If you need someone to testify to the Parole Board on your behalf, just let me know and I will be there to do so”. She started crying and said “Thank you!! Just hearing that means so much!!”

Even though February 3rd, 2000 was the worst day of my life….I don’t think I would go back and change it for anything. Granted I would love more than ANYTHING to have my big sister back, that day literally made me into the man I am today. It is a part of my history. It’s part of who and what I am.

There might be some people out there who might not like me for forgiving my mom. But Aubrey was a very forgiving person, and I know for a fact that that’s what she would have wanted me to do. And that’s what matters to me.

As of right now I believe Aubrey has a brick in her memory in the new Garden at Lakewood. That is my Granddad’s doing. As for me, I have TWO “living memorials” planned. The first will be a tattoo on my chest with her full name Aubrey Esther Carr in a half circle shape on top of an outline of the State of Texas, then on the bottom will be “March 6th 1984- February 3, 2000”. Her birth and death dates.

The second, will happen when my first daughter is born. I will convince my wife that our first daughter WILL BE named Aubrey Esther. I’m sure she’ll go along with it. And if not…I’ll use my powers of persuasion to persuade her.

Aubrey,

This was meant to be more like a letter to you. Instead it became a random bit of my feelings from that day and the weeks after.  But I just wanted you to know, you were the BEST big sister a guy could ever have!!

Love,

Your Little brother Justin

P.S.  I’m sorry that I sprained your ankle that day that I threw a rock at you at on vacation. And I’m also sorry that I threw a basketball at your face in the driveway (possibly on several occasions). I just had to be a mischievous Little Brother sometimes!!! 😀

When there is nothing left but God, that is when you find out that God is all you ever really needed!

A Story Of Two Heroes

A man and his tribe, war with the whites. A people with whom they at one point found favor with.  Meanwhile a boy walks down the road with his dog about to face his own kind of trouble with the kids on horses passing down the same path.

What do both of these heroes have in common? Me. That’s right, their ancestry leads them right here. Two men that fought against and with the other man’s race, combined almost exactly 100 years after both encountered injustices I have not endured. And I have not endured them, because they made American history, and we have not forgotten what we did to them.

Chief Joseph was the great chief who lead his people on a retreat that can only be surmised as a failed waterloo. He was trying to peacefully lead his people out of the country, but the white man would not let him go. Instead they were content to fight with them until the Nez Perce could no longer stand. “A retreat? That’s noble to you?” No, the retreat was not noble, but the fact that he was such a great leader and took his position with such severity, and levity that he would try to peaceably remove him and his thousands from the land of the whites, is.

He did end up fighting them, and kicking their tail around a good bit too, but he never quite made it north to Canada. He fought bravely to keep his people off of the reservations in oklahoma and washington, he fought bravely asking congress to let them go. And with that, the west was officially won.

Now the boy, with his dog, was supposed to be at school. He was supposed to be learnin readin writin and all sorts a thangs that a pur ole boy from missouri had no time for on account that his school was a mile away and there was rabbit tracks about a foot away from him in the snow. Well insteada goina school that day he went back home, got his dog “Shedrick” and his huntin rifle from inside the house. He found that there coon and was on the way back home when some boys from another town done picked a fight with him. He rightly whipped the biggun and the little one, well ole shedrick took care a him. The big guy of the family of kids didn’t take too kindly to Shedrick’s lickin of the youngun. He grabbed his shotgun off of the backa his horse and commenced to fire upon our hero, Tom Horn,’s dog.

According to Tom that there dog was dumb as dornails, but he was the best friend Tom had ever had.

Now why’d I tell you that? I told you that because that’s because that exactly the type of person that Tom Horn was. According to the media he was a cold blooded killer to the very end, but in all honesty he was regarded by the people that knew him best as their right hand man. They waited til he was dead to talk about the real Tom Horn, but the guy who stole his identity and said he was Tom Horn went and got the real guy hung.

Now the guy who stole his identity wasn’t the only one who really screwed up either. The media mercilessly dragged his name through the mud. They blamed tons murders on him (which could have been true, because he did shoot people, he just nursed them back to health, gave em a second chance, and then they could have died because of where the bullet was). The final blow came when a boy named Willie Nickell was shot. Due to the media already publishing his name, the governor of Wyoming did not delay the execution of Tom Horn. If the Governor had, his political career might have been hung itself. So the media biased the jury, as this was in the west and they had a culture of what we now call small town america, so everybody knew what who had to say about this, and everybody already had their opinions before the prosecution not only falsified documents, but produced illegitimate witnesses.

Facing all of this, and more, he called upon his friends and brother to help him get out of jail and the sheriff held the letters til after he was executed.

Tom at one point was a scout with the famous Apache indians. He grew to love their people and really respect their ways. Just imagine if our two heroes had gotten to work together, how different would our history be? How great would the nations of America and the Indian tribes be if America had just learned how to get along with Indians. We couldn’t do it though, the white man wanted his gold, and the Indians were all squattin on every last bit of it. How would America be different today if the Indians and Whites meshed together. Do you think that any of the wars were mostly government spurned? What constitutes your theory?

 

Something More

I’ve been hearing this argument over the past few days that not every kid is different, that only a few are set apart from the masses. While there may be subtle differences they are still different. God didn’t put a mathematical formula in to determine what or who we are, in fact the Bible says “I knit you in the womb.” So he hand made us, he hand chose what qualities we have, what features we possess. That makes us different no matter what we do, we may think in masses sometimes, we may agree with the masses, and we may heavily dislike the masses, but every child is different. Sometimes we supress how different these kids are, we make them feel like its not okay to be different.

How do we change this?