BORN FREE

I have never been a big Kid Rock fan.  I’m more of a classic rock, late 60’s and 70’s fan.  But Kid’s song “Born Free” I have always liked.  I especially like the version “Tribute to the Military”, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MJBTyKtbe1A . 

 It has even more special meaning to me.  I was born at Ft. Knox and raised in the Army, while I never served, if I could do over I would.  My dream was to be a fighter pilot, that didn’t happen.  The military has always been special to me.  I was and still am surrounded by men and women in the military and I have a tremendous respect and high honor for those who serve:

My Grandfather: Troy Maegerlein, US Army, served in WW I

My Great Aunt Mary, Colonel in Women’s Army Corp and served as a nurse in WW II Battle of the Bulge

My Father: Master Sargent Herschell Young, US Army, served in WW II Battle of the Bulge and Korea

My Mother: Dorothy Young, civilian served as a secretary to a Full Bird Colonel Ft. Knox

My Uncle: Bob Williams, US Navy Air Corp.

My Father-in-Law: Captain Chet Millstead, US Army, served in Vietnam

And now my two Step Sons:

Airman First Class Johnson McKenzie, Kentucky Air National Guard

Airman First Class Kenton McKenzie, Kentucky Air National Guard

It brought back many memories of my family as I watched Kenton and Johnson graduate from Basic Training this past weekend; remembering the honor of Lesa’s and my family members who have served in the military. Seeing the pride, honor and discipline the boys have newly discovered.

While none of these in my immediate family have given the ultimate sacrifice, I am thankful, but there are many who have.    However they did and do make sacrifices of fighting for our Country on foreign soil, being away from loved ones for extended periods of time and putting us and their Country above themselves.

I pray that each of us can always show the honor and respect to every man and woman who serve in the US Military as they so richly deserve.   The above list swore an oath to serve and protect us and our country so we can be “Born Free”.   

Written by Ian Troy Young

October 24, 2014

  

"When You Are On A Journey, Walk With The Warrior(s)"

          As I sat on the plane headed back from Joint Base, San Antonio, Texas, I was flanked on the left by my husband, Ian, and on my right by my Daddy and Mama, Chet and Shirle Millstead…..

…..and, those words came to my mind

I've learned over my fifty-two years when that happens, to jot it down because God is going to bring me back to it some day.  So, I pulled out my little, worn-out spiral notebook and wrote…

"When you are on a journey, walk with the warriors"

            A fitting thought considering the event which I had just attended….my twin sons' Airman run, Coin Ceremony, and Graduation from Basic Military Training with the Kentucky Air National Guard.  If you are reading this, it is likely that you walked my sons' journey through this season with our family so you know we are embracing all things military

And, that is as it should be

That's what families and friends do

They walk with us

            As I get older, I roll my eyes less as those who have such passion in their lives and instead, send arrow prayers heavenward that such a people still exist in a world where pain, suffering and meanness would rob us of our joy

Because, that is what life would do

Rob us of our joy

If we let it

It's a conscious choice, this claim of joy or despair

I know this as truth in my life and I know many of you know this as well

Life would swallow us up with migraine, cancer, and surgical errors.  It would pull us down with divorce, miscarriage and soft-disfellowship.  It would bless the lying tongue, the rogue pretender, and lift up mental illness so severe that a soul might give up.  Parents and children would fight, husbands and wives would paint faux picket fences, and some would just remove themselves from their daily walk because the pain was too great

Life here on earth is a hard walk

Which is exactly why God didn't leave Adam all alone….he gifted him with Eve so that when they walked, it was with another by his/her side

It's why He gives us families, by any definition….blood, foster, across the pond adoption or at a concrete venue stand in the middle of Lackland Air Force Base

Evidence of His great love for us is His faithful, personal companionship, his sharing of His son, and his blessing us with family and friends

The truth is, we can chose who we walk with in most cases…

Really

We can….

Which is why it is so important that we chose wisely

Which is why it is so important that we seek God's direction….because only He knows our future steps and who will be a blessing in our lives and who will be a blessings' opposite

And, even when we have our free will to choose our walking partners, sometimes God will place those we did not chose and asks us to just love them…in His name… as we walk together

So, that is what I want to spend the rest of the days God gives me doing

Loving

Unconditionally

And, being grateful for those who do the same for and with me

For, truth is…..

We cannot do this thing called life alone

We cannot

We shall not

We dare not

Rather…..

What I am learning, what God is laying on my heart, what I encourage my soul, my spirit; my person-hood to do is…

"Walk with the warrior(s)"

And, that is what I chose to do…..starting today and then tomorrow and the day after that….

And, I plan to make that a conscious choice every day and here is why…

Because it is the WARRIORS in this life who know the way HOME…..

You know who I am talking about…you can name them by name…you have witnessed their faith walk, prayer journeys, battles in this life.   

We all have warriors among us….those who chose faith in God through all of their circumstances, both good and sad.  Those who lived authentically, sharing their sorrow and sadness but not living in it, choosing rather to rise up in faith and truth…toward the cross

You know warriors even this minute who are soon to make that journey home so they can rest…

The humble Billy Graham said in his own book that he is tired and ready to go "home", but that until he receives his call, he will live the warrior life until the end.

It's these followers-in-truth who have kept the faith, fought the good fight, finished the race, heads held high with arms even higher.  They point the way…leave deep foot prints for our following

How can I be so confident of this?

Because…..in faith, in truth, in the reality of our souls, we know the ultimate Warrior…

The Lord is a warrior; the Lord is his name

(Exodus 15:3)

And, there is no one, not even my Viet Nam Veteran Daddy nor my newly appointed Airmen sons whom I would rather follow than the Lord…

But, I don't want to walk this journey alone…

Join me?

Please

Let's do this thing together….

Blessings,

Lesa

           

           

           

Dedicated to our WingMoms who held our hands through this journey, mother-to-mother as only mothers can.  Our forever thanks for your service to your country!  You made us American WingMoms.  Loud and Proud.  Wolfpack Strong!

Tapping Out……

In the Air Force, the concept of Tapping Out is really just their means of dismissing their Airmen/women in an orderly fashion.  They tell us this during Basic Military Training (BMT) right and proper.  And, "Yes, Sir/Mam" we get the message straight and clear.

But, as a mother of two former children, now men, who are completing their first steps as Airmen, I suspect that this "Tapping Out" is going to be so very much more.

Eight and one-half weeks ago, I sent to the Air Force two young men, barely able to get their hairs cut without the company of their mother (well, they could, they just always said they liked me to come along for the ride and the "payment").  I went until I knew I had to cut their strings.  I make no apologies.

In the past eight and one half weeks, I have read in the words of my sons's letters a progression of growth and maturity.  That, which had they not had this "Trainee" experience, they would have never have met in quite the same way.  I am grateful they chose service of our country.  

At first, they wrote with either a desperate need to hear me say, "you can do this" or a need to hear me write, "you better take this seriously".  They are as different as day and night.  I knew that since womb-creating began.  One active, busy ready to attack the world type son and the other a calm, laid back and slower to react son.  Both wrote letters home as expected for their personalities.  Both struggled in ways this mother's heart knew they would.  Both grew through their challenges in methods which God designed over 20 years ago.  

 Knowing in advance what might pose a struggle in no way lessened this mother's concern or worry.  But, truth is, I believed in them with full heart and great expectations.  My faith in them far exceeded any anxiety.  I don't say that boldly for it was a work to get there.  I say that humbly, because I believed in the hearts and strength of my sons (and, daughter as well).

When your child takes his or her first journey away from you, his mother, they need to travel with your blessing and preparedness.  It is my mother obligation to get them ready. It is their duty to be good students. I am convinced, that it is not love when you so cater to every whim of your child that making an independent decision weakens them.

I am guilty, at times, of being a helicopter mother.  I am guilty of doing too much.  I lay this down as truth.  But, what I am learning that it is never too late to change that habit and by doing so, give back to my children their confidence and maturity.

Roots and Wings are words which are sung often in my large family.  Roots and Wings….deep roots to give them stability and wings to let them fly.  And, a nest which is always there when needs arise to return.

Like it or not, my children's roots were tested and their wings were forced to grow and expand to fit their bodies, minds and spirits.  I was not there as they arrived in San Antonio, Texas to meet the man/woman who would chew them up and spit them out frequently over the next 8.5 weeks in attempt to take play dough and make it into strong clay.

I was not there to tell them when to speak and when to be quiet.  How long to lift their suitcases up and down under the direction of an MTI who cared not one whit about who they were, what sport they succeeded in, how straight were their A's on their report cards, or how close they were to their Mommy.

MTIs don't care if your name is Kennedy or if your tooth hurts and you need a Tylenol.  They don't care if you forgot to put fresh water in your canteen in 98 degree weather and are going to pass out.  It does not matter if back home you are known for your sense of humor or parent's bank account.

In fact, it is that part of you that they don't want to see…..hear….smell

In BMT, my sons became nobodies to themselves so that they could be molded into Airmen for our country.

The Military is giving a gift to my sons I could not give and in a way I could not give it.

So, as I head to "tap out" my sons someday soon….I say thank you to those MTI's with names I know but whose faces I may never see or hands I may never shake.  Thank you for taking my baby boys and walking them up a few rungs on the ladder of their lives in a way no Mama can.  

Thank you for your service in taking my sons out of their self-absorbed life and into one which "Wingman" becomes more important than their individual names.  Where partnering with a buddy and saving a comrade is what life is about.

They are American Airmen

And, I am and American WingMom

God bless you every one! 

Blessings,

Lesa

Tapping Out……

In the Air Force, the concept of Tapping Out is really just their means of dismissing their Airmen/women in an orderly fashion.  They tell us this during Basic Military Training (BMT) right and proper.  And, "Yes, Sir/Mam" we get the message straight and clear.

But, as a mother of two former children, now men, who are completing their first steps as Airmen, I suspect that this "Tapping Out" is going to be so very much more.

Eight and one-half weeks ago, I sent to the Air Force two young men, barely able to get their hairs cut without the company of their mother (well, they could, they just always said they liked me to come along for the ride and the "payment").  I went until I knew I had to cut their strings.  I make no apologies.

In the past eight and one half weeks, I have read in the words of my sons's letters a progression of growth and maturity.  That, which had they not had this "Trainee" experience, they would have never have met in quite the same way.  I am grateful they chose service of our country.  

At first, they wrote with either a desperate need to hear me say, "you can do this" or a need to hear me write, "you better take this seriously".  They are as different as day and night.  I knew that since womb-creating began.  One active, busy ready to attack the world type son and the other a calm, laid back and slower to react son.  Both wrote letters home as expected for their personalities.  Both struggled in ways this mother's heart knew they would.  Both grew through their challenges in methods which God designed over 20 years ago.  

 Knowing in advance what might pose a struggle in no way lessened this mother's concern or worry.  But, truth is, I believed in them with full heart and great expectations.  My faith in them far exceeded any anxiety.  I don't say that boldly for it was a work to get there.  I say that humbly, because I believed in the hearts and strength of my sons (and, daughter as well).

When your child takes his or her first journey away from you, his mother, they need to travel with your blessing and preparedness.  It is my mother obligation to get them ready. It is their duty to be good students. I am convinced, that it is not love when you so cater to every whim of your child that making an independent decision weakens them.

I am guilty, at times, of being a helicopter mother.  I am guilty of doing too much.  I lay this down as truth.  But, what I am learning that it is never too late to change that habit and by doing so, give back to my children their confidence and maturity.

Roots and Wings are words which are sung often in my large family.  Roots and Wings….deep roots to give them stability and wings to let them fly.  And, a nest which is always there when needs arise to return.

Like it or not, my children's roots were tested and their wings were forced to grow and expand to fit their bodies, minds and spirits.  I was not there as they arrived in San Antonio, Texas to meet the man/woman who would chew them up and spit them out frequently over the next 8.5 weeks in attempt to take play dough and make it into strong clay.

I was not there to tell them when to speak and when to be quiet.  How long to lift their suitcases up and down under the direction of an MTI who cared not one whit about who they were, what sport they succeeded in, how straight were their A's on their report cards, or how close they were to their Mommy.

MTIs don't care if your name is Kennedy or if your tooth hurts and you need a Tylenol.  They don't care if you forgot to put fresh water in your canteen in 98 degree weather and are going to pass out.  It does not matter if back home you are known for your sense of humor or parent's bank account.

In fact, it is that part of you that they don't want to see…..hear….smell

In BMT, my sons became nobodies to themselves so that they could be molded into Airmen for our country.

The Military is giving a gift to my sons I could not give and in a way I could not give it.

So, as I head to "tap out" my sons someday soon….I say thank you to those MTI's with names I know but whose faces I may never see or hands I may never shake.  Thank you for taking my baby boys and walking them up a few rungs on the ladder of their lives in a way no Mama can.  

Thank you for your service in taking my sons out of their self-absorbed life and into one which "Wingman" becomes more important than their individual names.  Where partnering with a buddy and saving a comrade is what life is about.

They are American Airmen

And, I am and American WingMom

God bless you every one! 

Blessings,

Lesa