One of my Facebook friends is a Christian woman named Traycee who is a firefighter. She is also a patriotic American--AND an African-American who is NOT fooled by Barack Obama. Traycee started a separate pro-American forum, which I have joined. I recommend it to others. You can find it at:
http://patriotsforfreeamerica.com/
Monday, September 13, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Addendum to my item about HR1388
Snopes.com recently made a big deal of insisting that HR1388 was not nearly as broad in scope as had been thought. (That was why I kept my language moderate on HR1388, though I stand by everything I said about the general issue of government monopolizing humanitarian service.) If the Snopes people have an agenda to cover for leftwing politicians, telling us to quit worrying about HR1388 could be a piece of illusionist's misdirection, to prevent us from looking at ANOTHER piece of legislation which IS more inclusive in its dictatorial effects.
HR5741, the Universal National Service Act, is that other piece of legislation-- which, if what I now hear is true, is FAR more destructive to our liberty than the other law that only affected students. What I am told is that the U.N.S.A. authorizes the President to create new service agencies at his unilateral discretion, and to compel even persons as old as forty to work for them, if those persons have not yet already served in the armed forces or some equivalent.
If anyone is actually looking, I urge you to investigate this act for yourself, and don't take ONLY Snopes.com's word about it. If Barack Obama cared about helping people AS SUCH, he would be just as happy to let private charity do its job. He wants government to GET ALL THE CREDIT for any humanitarian activity, so as to set in concrete our passive dependency ON the government.
HR5741, the Universal National Service Act, is that other piece of legislation-- which, if what I now hear is true, is FAR more destructive to our liberty than the other law that only affected students. What I am told is that the U.N.S.A. authorizes the President to create new service agencies at his unilateral discretion, and to compel even persons as old as forty to work for them, if those persons have not yet already served in the armed forces or some equivalent.
If anyone is actually looking, I urge you to investigate this act for yourself, and don't take ONLY Snopes.com's word about it. If Barack Obama cared about helping people AS SUCH, he would be just as happy to let private charity do its job. He wants government to GET ALL THE CREDIT for any humanitarian activity, so as to set in concrete our passive dependency ON the government.
For the PIECES of Jerusalem
When Christians mechanically recite "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem," I realize that they mean well, that they do wish for the beleaguered people of Israel to be safe. But it comes across to me as--well, to use that particular Scripture just sounds as if they think that Jerusalem CURRENTLY IS at peace, and only needs to maintain it.
This is like looking at a city block which is engulfed in flames, and saying, "I trust that the people on this block will continue to be able to prevent fires. It would be unfortunate if any of these buildings burned."
Jerusalem, with all of Israel, is under attack NOW. All kinds of war are being waged already against the civilized people of the only Middle Eastern country with a stable representative government. The Barack Hussein Obama regime was waging a kind of war against Israel when it pretended Israelis had no right to build homes in THEIR OWN historical capital city. Now Israel is being expected to give up half of that city. The American hard-leftwingers who enable terrorists are CHOOSING to forget that Israel DID offer just such a concession to the Muslims a decade ago, and all the thanks they got was the Islamist rioting that the Palestinians had INTENDED ALL ALONG to do.
Praying for peace is too little and too late. The war IS on, and HAS been on since 1948 at least. Islamic orthodoxy will NEVER tolerate anyone OTHER than Muslims controlling any territory that Muslims feel like saying is theirs. Remember Spain: it pulled its troops out of Iraq, and the only thanks IT got was Islamists continuing to claim that Spain is also their territory.
I don't know what can be done. America has allowed itself to become SO weak and ineffectual. Islamists on Facebook are getting cockier every day, confident that their cause is unstoppable. (One illustration of their smugness was when a character calling himself Xmox Khan had the gall to cite Moammar Qadhafi as an authority on peace!) Of course we can still pray, but I can't help feeling that prayers are better if they are worded in a way that reflects the actual situation that's being prayed about.
The peace of Jerusalem has already been stolen. Hezbollah may open fire from the north at any time now. I pray for the SURVIVAL of Jerusalem, for waffling Westerners to recognize evil when it's spitting in their faces, and for that evil to be DEFEATED.
This is like looking at a city block which is engulfed in flames, and saying, "I trust that the people on this block will continue to be able to prevent fires. It would be unfortunate if any of these buildings burned."
Jerusalem, with all of Israel, is under attack NOW. All kinds of war are being waged already against the civilized people of the only Middle Eastern country with a stable representative government. The Barack Hussein Obama regime was waging a kind of war against Israel when it pretended Israelis had no right to build homes in THEIR OWN historical capital city. Now Israel is being expected to give up half of that city. The American hard-leftwingers who enable terrorists are CHOOSING to forget that Israel DID offer just such a concession to the Muslims a decade ago, and all the thanks they got was the Islamist rioting that the Palestinians had INTENDED ALL ALONG to do.
Praying for peace is too little and too late. The war IS on, and HAS been on since 1948 at least. Islamic orthodoxy will NEVER tolerate anyone OTHER than Muslims controlling any territory that Muslims feel like saying is theirs. Remember Spain: it pulled its troops out of Iraq, and the only thanks IT got was Islamists continuing to claim that Spain is also their territory.
I don't know what can be done. America has allowed itself to become SO weak and ineffectual. Islamists on Facebook are getting cockier every day, confident that their cause is unstoppable. (One illustration of their smugness was when a character calling himself Xmox Khan had the gall to cite Moammar Qadhafi as an authority on peace!) Of course we can still pray, but I can't help feeling that prayers are better if they are worded in a way that reflects the actual situation that's being prayed about.
The peace of Jerusalem has already been stolen. Hezbollah may open fire from the north at any time now. I pray for the SURVIVAL of Jerusalem, for waffling Westerners to recognize evil when it's spitting in their faces, and for that evil to be DEFEATED.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
HR-1388
Has anyone been paying attention?
I'm told that the "G.I.V.E. Act" has passed Congress, requiring American citizens to serve in federally-controlled public-service organizations. This is the logical progression of a governmental philosophy which I've been denouncing for many years: the lie that, if the central government isn't meeting human needs, then human needs aren't being met at all. The very pretense that this new government service network is necessary at all, is the same thing as claiming that the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, World Vision, Feed The Children, Doctors Without Borders, and other independent humanitarian agencies haven't been doing anything all these decades.
Am I making myself clear enough? Even without bringing hysterical charges of totalitarian tyranny, it should be enough for you to know that I am right when I say that the justification for HR-1388 is a lie. Not a mistake, not a difference of opinion: an intentional falsehood, an attempt by government to make us believe things which government figures themselves know to be untrue. Even if it is only a limited group of persons who are called on to render government service under HR-1388, for those who are affected by the legislation, it remains a piece of indoctrination in favor of government being the source of all humanitarian provisions. One more intentional step in the direction of regarding private charity as redundant and useless.
Independent charities have IN ACTUAL FACT accomplished great things in America's history; and the incremental "change" to federal control of all charity adds nothing good. The one and only thing the "G.I.V.E. Act" adds to the field of charitable activity...is progress toward a federal monopoly in decision-making. Once the same government supremacy spreads far enough, we will no longer be allowed to use OUR judgment about what things people need. When attempting to help our neighbors, we will have to let the government tell us what we are allowed to do for them and give to them. So if some bureaucrat is too stupid to understand a particular need, then it's just too bad for the persons in need--the bureaucrat will insist on distributing air conditioners in Alaska in winter, or providing ground beef to feed our horses.
Can anybody NOT see this?
Anybody who doesn't see it, isn't looking, or does not yet know where to look...and certainly never lived in the Soviet Union.
If Americans can get their act together this November and gain ground against the Government-Is-All philosophy, it will not be even nearly enough just to throw out some of the power-drunk traitors currently in Congress. We must, we absolutely MUST, put the pressure on, and KEEP the pressure on, to repeal and reject this dictatorial centralizing of all humanitarian activity.
I'm told that the "G.I.V.E. Act" has passed Congress, requiring American citizens to serve in federally-controlled public-service organizations. This is the logical progression of a governmental philosophy which I've been denouncing for many years: the lie that, if the central government isn't meeting human needs, then human needs aren't being met at all. The very pretense that this new government service network is necessary at all, is the same thing as claiming that the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, World Vision, Feed The Children, Doctors Without Borders, and other independent humanitarian agencies haven't been doing anything all these decades.
Am I making myself clear enough? Even without bringing hysterical charges of totalitarian tyranny, it should be enough for you to know that I am right when I say that the justification for HR-1388 is a lie. Not a mistake, not a difference of opinion: an intentional falsehood, an attempt by government to make us believe things which government figures themselves know to be untrue. Even if it is only a limited group of persons who are called on to render government service under HR-1388, for those who are affected by the legislation, it remains a piece of indoctrination in favor of government being the source of all humanitarian provisions. One more intentional step in the direction of regarding private charity as redundant and useless.
Independent charities have IN ACTUAL FACT accomplished great things in America's history; and the incremental "change" to federal control of all charity adds nothing good. The one and only thing the "G.I.V.E. Act" adds to the field of charitable activity...is progress toward a federal monopoly in decision-making. Once the same government supremacy spreads far enough, we will no longer be allowed to use OUR judgment about what things people need. When attempting to help our neighbors, we will have to let the government tell us what we are allowed to do for them and give to them. So if some bureaucrat is too stupid to understand a particular need, then it's just too bad for the persons in need--the bureaucrat will insist on distributing air conditioners in Alaska in winter, or providing ground beef to feed our horses.
Can anybody NOT see this?
Anybody who doesn't see it, isn't looking, or does not yet know where to look...and certainly never lived in the Soviet Union.
If Americans can get their act together this November and gain ground against the Government-Is-All philosophy, it will not be even nearly enough just to throw out some of the power-drunk traitors currently in Congress. We must, we absolutely MUST, put the pressure on, and KEEP the pressure on, to repeal and reject this dictatorial centralizing of all humanitarian activity.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Spiritually Active at the RenFest
Without ever having to be "pushy," I find that customers, by THEIR OWN initiative, will start meaningful discussions with me when I'm in character at the Colorado festival.
Yesterday, for instance, one teenage girl dragged another one up to me. The one being "dragged" was part of the act; she had on weird contact lenses to make her look weird. The one doing the dragging told me "Archbishop, this girl is possessed by a demon!" I sensed that they wanted me to act out an attempted exorcism, SO THAT they could mock me and mock God by having the "possessed" girl act out being unaffected. Instead, therefore, I slipped out of character and told both girls quite solemnly that they would not find ANYTHING fun about a REAL demonic encounter. They were given much food for thought.
Later the same day, a slightly drunk woman asked me where she could find the palm reader. I was obligated to tell her, and did tell her; but she did have the wits about her to realize, if a bit late, that palm reading JUST MIGHT not be compatible with my Christian convictions. Since she herself asked me about that, I could freely tell her that while I couldn't tell her NOT to see a palm reader, it was indeed alien to my faith. She, also, had food for thought when she and I parted company.
Yesterday, for instance, one teenage girl dragged another one up to me. The one being "dragged" was part of the act; she had on weird contact lenses to make her look weird. The one doing the dragging told me "Archbishop, this girl is possessed by a demon!" I sensed that they wanted me to act out an attempted exorcism, SO THAT they could mock me and mock God by having the "possessed" girl act out being unaffected. Instead, therefore, I slipped out of character and told both girls quite solemnly that they would not find ANYTHING fun about a REAL demonic encounter. They were given much food for thought.
Later the same day, a slightly drunk woman asked me where she could find the palm reader. I was obligated to tell her, and did tell her; but she did have the wits about her to realize, if a bit late, that palm reading JUST MIGHT not be compatible with my Christian convictions. Since she herself asked me about that, I could freely tell her that while I couldn't tell her NOT to see a palm reader, it was indeed alien to my faith. She, also, had food for thought when she and I parted company.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The Shield Bearer's Tale
Something like eighty-five years ago, on Long Island, an Irish-American lady named Gladys Havens married an Italian-American architect named Erman Scudellari. The surname Scudellari means "Shield Bearer." When Gladys was about to give birth to her first child, a boy to be named Vincent, her doctor warned her of dangerous difficulties, and said it might come to a choice between her life or her baby's. Without hesitation, the courageous Gladys told him, "Save my baby." In the event, Vincent and his mother both pulled through; and Gladys went on to give birth successfully to three more sons, and one daughter.
The one daughter was Mary Anne Cecilia Scudellari, born on 28 January 1937, and destined to be married to me on 15 April 1979. I have wanted, ever since my Mary passed through the Door Into Summer, to write a thorough biography of her; but God has always kept my attention on persons who were still in mortal life and still needed attention. To the extent that I have obeyed God in this, I have been emulating Mary, who was a longtime nurse, a fiercely loyal friend, and a pro-life activist who did NOT "forget about the woman." Still, on this exact sixth anniversary of the Tuesday morning when my first wife crossed over, I can offer some fragments of what belongs in her biography.
Mary was never anything remotely like a pampered child; her father was cold and distant with her. But Mary grew up tough and strong, while still being capable of love. She became a nurse at New York's Bellevue Hospital, where her best pal was a fellow nurse named Meg Hendricks, whom I eventually had the satisfaction of meeting. Mary and Meg enjoyed their work, and enjoyed outdoor activities like camping.
Mary, not her brothers, cared for both parents in their final illnesses; and it was she who inherited the family house. Prior to this, the only one of Mary's brothers to have loved her, David Scudellari, had also died. So with no one left on Long Island to hold her there, she decided to give up the house and move west. Before she had revealed her intention, she experienced what seemed a sign from God that her plan was right. A little girl in her extended family--a daughter of one of her brothers, I believe--came up to her and, out of the blue, said to her, "Happy landings."
She meant to join a concent in Minnesota, but got no farther west than western Wisconsin, where she worked awhile at raising goats. Then she headed south into Illinois, where she made a living for several years by private in-home care for elderly women. She participated in a Catholic Charismatic fellowship in Rockford, and like many Charismatics, was very open about mingling with Protestants. In fact, for a long time she ceased to feel a need to stick with Catholic churches.
I first met Mary at a Charismatic meeting in the summer of 1972, when I was a Fuller Brush salesman. I considered her attractive from the very first instant of our acquaintance; but as she was older than I was, I initially felt she was out of my league. Really, she WAS out of my league until I grew up some more. But there was nothing to stop me from being friends with her, nor from joining the Birthright chapter she had co-founded in Rockford. With no sexual element in our early relationship, we were free to get to know each other as persons in great depth. We also worked together at a nursing home.
Mary was popular with the young men at Faith Alliance, my first church. Some of them nicknamed her "Scoots," in tribute to how energetic she was. Like me, they enjoyed being pals with her; she would give them haircuts and homemade cookies. And she actively encouraged those of us who were in music ministry. Unlike the other guys, though, I progressed into having much deeper feelings for her. (During the same period, she and I went for our first time ever to a Renaissance Festival, the same kind of activity I have now become part of in my old age.)
Mary and I got married on an Easter Sunday. It is a cheerful memory for me that, on our wedding night, we literally collapsed the bed.
At that time, in 1979, I had a blue-collar job in a warehouse. The next year, unfortunately, I was laid off. The Rockford area was suffering economic troubles then (as it still is now). On top of this, in the summer of 1981, Mary suffered a miscarriage, which the Holy Spirit had warned her would happen. God was not going to let us raise a baby of our own begetting; but later, He providentially made the way for us to adopt a Korean toddler named Ahn Mee-Hwa, who was to become Annemarie Rosalind Ravitts--now Annemarie Martinez, the successful working wife of Anthony Martinez and mother of Mary's and my grandson Dominic.
The need for employment propelled me into the U.S. Navy in 1986. Becoming a Navy wife, Mary charged into this new role the way she always charged into things: with a sort of intelligent recklessness, and a resolve to carry more than her weight. She was an ombudsman for my submarine's crew families in Connecticut, and homeschooled Annemarie when we were stationed in Japan.
Our last duty station was at Fort Meade, Maryland. As always, Mary made it her own duty station too. For instance, she participated in a large seminar on base to discuss quality-of-life issues for military families; she even acted in a comical skit which illustrated the issues. She was as brave as ever, taking a commmunity-health nursing job which sent her into the dangerous neighborhoods of Baltimore; and as compassionate as ever, performing volunteer hospice work until she herself was laid low by cancer.
To be truthful, she had her dark side--which was purged out of her by the ordeal of her own cancer. It was an inclination to excessive anger. This well of indignation inside her was partly resentment of unloving family members back in New York, partly annoyance at people who wouldn't do their share the way she did her share, and partly disgust at the moral decay of society that she could see all around her. Though God did not choose to heal Mary's body, her spirit was healed, and the rage eliminated, by experiencing how much love was lavished upon her during her sickness.
She got to plan her own funeral. One Scripture she called for was Job 19:25-27, the famous "I know that my Redeemer lives" passage. And she made her crossing to the sound of the hymn "There Is A Fountain," sung by me, my sister Tammy, and two hospice ladies who were in attendance.
As I near the conclusion of this terribly incomplete biographical sketch of my true love, the time in the time zone where she died is about nine a.m.--less than an hour and a half before the actual time of her departure. As I am fond of saying, if it had been anything like a fair fight, Mary would have kicked the butt of that cancer until it was crying for its mommy. Nonetheless, Mary's grain of wheat fallen into the earth has borne good fruit. Her visitation and burial were attended by an astonishing diversity of people, from a lesbian neighbor we had befriended, to a Muslim couple from next door, to a U.S. Navy admiral who had known us in Japan, to a Navy honor detail which carried her casket.
The maturing I acquired by my life with Mary was what made me a suitable husband for my second wife Janalee. I'm just one of many persons Mary inspired to do better things and be better people. As for my Mary herself, she now dwells where she always longed to be, in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ.
The one daughter was Mary Anne Cecilia Scudellari, born on 28 January 1937, and destined to be married to me on 15 April 1979. I have wanted, ever since my Mary passed through the Door Into Summer, to write a thorough biography of her; but God has always kept my attention on persons who were still in mortal life and still needed attention. To the extent that I have obeyed God in this, I have been emulating Mary, who was a longtime nurse, a fiercely loyal friend, and a pro-life activist who did NOT "forget about the woman." Still, on this exact sixth anniversary of the Tuesday morning when my first wife crossed over, I can offer some fragments of what belongs in her biography.
Mary was never anything remotely like a pampered child; her father was cold and distant with her. But Mary grew up tough and strong, while still being capable of love. She became a nurse at New York's Bellevue Hospital, where her best pal was a fellow nurse named Meg Hendricks, whom I eventually had the satisfaction of meeting. Mary and Meg enjoyed their work, and enjoyed outdoor activities like camping.
Mary, not her brothers, cared for both parents in their final illnesses; and it was she who inherited the family house. Prior to this, the only one of Mary's brothers to have loved her, David Scudellari, had also died. So with no one left on Long Island to hold her there, she decided to give up the house and move west. Before she had revealed her intention, she experienced what seemed a sign from God that her plan was right. A little girl in her extended family--a daughter of one of her brothers, I believe--came up to her and, out of the blue, said to her, "Happy landings."
She meant to join a concent in Minnesota, but got no farther west than western Wisconsin, where she worked awhile at raising goats. Then she headed south into Illinois, where she made a living for several years by private in-home care for elderly women. She participated in a Catholic Charismatic fellowship in Rockford, and like many Charismatics, was very open about mingling with Protestants. In fact, for a long time she ceased to feel a need to stick with Catholic churches.
I first met Mary at a Charismatic meeting in the summer of 1972, when I was a Fuller Brush salesman. I considered her attractive from the very first instant of our acquaintance; but as she was older than I was, I initially felt she was out of my league. Really, she WAS out of my league until I grew up some more. But there was nothing to stop me from being friends with her, nor from joining the Birthright chapter she had co-founded in Rockford. With no sexual element in our early relationship, we were free to get to know each other as persons in great depth. We also worked together at a nursing home.
Mary was popular with the young men at Faith Alliance, my first church. Some of them nicknamed her "Scoots," in tribute to how energetic she was. Like me, they enjoyed being pals with her; she would give them haircuts and homemade cookies. And she actively encouraged those of us who were in music ministry. Unlike the other guys, though, I progressed into having much deeper feelings for her. (During the same period, she and I went for our first time ever to a Renaissance Festival, the same kind of activity I have now become part of in my old age.)
Mary and I got married on an Easter Sunday. It is a cheerful memory for me that, on our wedding night, we literally collapsed the bed.
At that time, in 1979, I had a blue-collar job in a warehouse. The next year, unfortunately, I was laid off. The Rockford area was suffering economic troubles then (as it still is now). On top of this, in the summer of 1981, Mary suffered a miscarriage, which the Holy Spirit had warned her would happen. God was not going to let us raise a baby of our own begetting; but later, He providentially made the way for us to adopt a Korean toddler named Ahn Mee-Hwa, who was to become Annemarie Rosalind Ravitts--now Annemarie Martinez, the successful working wife of Anthony Martinez and mother of Mary's and my grandson Dominic.
The need for employment propelled me into the U.S. Navy in 1986. Becoming a Navy wife, Mary charged into this new role the way she always charged into things: with a sort of intelligent recklessness, and a resolve to carry more than her weight. She was an ombudsman for my submarine's crew families in Connecticut, and homeschooled Annemarie when we were stationed in Japan.
Our last duty station was at Fort Meade, Maryland. As always, Mary made it her own duty station too. For instance, she participated in a large seminar on base to discuss quality-of-life issues for military families; she even acted in a comical skit which illustrated the issues. She was as brave as ever, taking a commmunity-health nursing job which sent her into the dangerous neighborhoods of Baltimore; and as compassionate as ever, performing volunteer hospice work until she herself was laid low by cancer.
To be truthful, she had her dark side--which was purged out of her by the ordeal of her own cancer. It was an inclination to excessive anger. This well of indignation inside her was partly resentment of unloving family members back in New York, partly annoyance at people who wouldn't do their share the way she did her share, and partly disgust at the moral decay of society that she could see all around her. Though God did not choose to heal Mary's body, her spirit was healed, and the rage eliminated, by experiencing how much love was lavished upon her during her sickness.
She got to plan her own funeral. One Scripture she called for was Job 19:25-27, the famous "I know that my Redeemer lives" passage. And she made her crossing to the sound of the hymn "There Is A Fountain," sung by me, my sister Tammy, and two hospice ladies who were in attendance.
As I near the conclusion of this terribly incomplete biographical sketch of my true love, the time in the time zone where she died is about nine a.m.--less than an hour and a half before the actual time of her departure. As I am fond of saying, if it had been anything like a fair fight, Mary would have kicked the butt of that cancer until it was crying for its mommy. Nonetheless, Mary's grain of wheat fallen into the earth has borne good fruit. Her visitation and burial were attended by an astonishing diversity of people, from a lesbian neighbor we had befriended, to a Muslim couple from next door, to a U.S. Navy admiral who had known us in Japan, to a Navy honor detail which carried her casket.
The maturing I acquired by my life with Mary was what made me a suitable husband for my second wife Janalee. I'm just one of many persons Mary inspired to do better things and be better people. As for my Mary herself, she now dwells where she always longed to be, in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
A Civilian Remembrance On Memorial Day Weekend
On Memorial Day weekend of 2005, I was still in the Navy and stationed in Maryland, but was using my time off to visit home to Rockford. Of course I saw family members; but the supreme reason for this _particular_ visit was to see the former Janalee Whippler, with whom my deceased Mary and I had been acquainted long ago. That final Saturday of May 2005 was the first time Jan and I were ever physically in the same place....with both of us unmarried.
For more than two months preceding this meeting, I had been rebuilding and expanding my friendship with Jan via telephone calls and writing. I had learned much about how God had cleansed her from the straying into sin that had ended her first marriage. In fact, Jan's ex-husband Rich had _encouraged_ my growing closer to Jan. So, with geographical distance giving the benefit of keeping our first interactions purely spiritual and personality-based, Jan and I had already grown close in ways that mattered, even _before_ I knocked on her apartment door and saw her again.
Jan and I ended up getting married--with me in my Navy dress uniform--a year and a half after my Mary's arrival in Heaven. Mary had seen me into the Navy; it was left to Jan to share my retirement ceremony. Jan was given two and a half years to live as my wife, before God called her home also. Now, it has been more than two years since Jan crossed over to glory; but on this Memorial Day weekend, I am particularly remembering her.
Some people don't get it. I did not stop loving Mary when I married Jan; and I have not stopped loving Jan just because I don't feel duty-bound to be a hermit for the rest of my earthly life.
For more than two months preceding this meeting, I had been rebuilding and expanding my friendship with Jan via telephone calls and writing. I had learned much about how God had cleansed her from the straying into sin that had ended her first marriage. In fact, Jan's ex-husband Rich had _encouraged_ my growing closer to Jan. So, with geographical distance giving the benefit of keeping our first interactions purely spiritual and personality-based, Jan and I had already grown close in ways that mattered, even _before_ I knocked on her apartment door and saw her again.
Jan and I ended up getting married--with me in my Navy dress uniform--a year and a half after my Mary's arrival in Heaven. Mary had seen me into the Navy; it was left to Jan to share my retirement ceremony. Jan was given two and a half years to live as my wife, before God called her home also. Now, it has been more than two years since Jan crossed over to glory; but on this Memorial Day weekend, I am particularly remembering her.
Some people don't get it. I did not stop loving Mary when I married Jan; and I have not stopped loving Jan just because I don't feel duty-bound to be a hermit for the rest of my earthly life.
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