Background
We don't remember the days; we remember the moments.
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Chapter 6
I'm not sure why this memory came to mind. I think because of the length of my prayer list and the problems in some states due to hurricane issues.
This memory goes back to the summer of 2002. The Army had placed us at Fort Jackson, South Carolina. The waitlist for officer housing on post was about four years long. We were designated to be there for three years. We rented a house on the economy, in a small town close to Fort Jackson.
At this time our two older boys had graduated and were on their own. Greg was in the Army and stationed in Germany. Jeff was a chef in Missouri. Andrew was in high school and sixteen years old. Steven was still in elementary school and was nine. Yes, he's finally born.
Brian was deployed to Iraq. While at Fort Jackson, he deployed twice to Iraq.
Our house was in the Lugoff/Elgin school district, which was my boys first civilian school, having previously gone to school on Army posts. I wanted to make sure they got a good start in the schools so elected to remain home for at least a year before I went back to work.
I did take the youth director job at our small church. I got to set my own hours and both Andrew and Steven attended youth group.
The larger district this church belonged to supported a summer program called Salkehatchie. This program had different two-week programs throughout the summer where teenagers went to different poverty-stricken areas in South Carolina and helped families repair their homes.
During these two weeks the teens slept on the floor of the local church and different churches in the town supplied their meals. In the evenings, they held church activities.
This particular summer I signed Andrew up. Steven was too young. As I helped Andrew pack for these two weeks, he asked, "Mom, what did I do to make you so angry to send me to this?"
"Nothing. I think it'll be a great experience. Here's the deal. Go this year and if you hate it, you won't have to go next year. Deal?"
Long story short, Andrew had a great time. When he returned, our pastor asked him to describe his experience during church the following Sunday. He stood up and told this story.
'I was on my hands and knees with some sort of chisel tool tearing up a linoleum floor that already had holes in it revealing the dirt the house sat on. It was hot and humid. Sweat poured off me. Sorry, mom, but I was cussing you out for forcing me to go to this. I was angry, and I swung that chisel, and it broke a water pipe. I sat there and looked up. 'Okay, God. You have a sense of humor. I get it. The water's cool and I'm not hot anymore.
'The church district hadn't planned on replacing the water pipes, because of money, but now they were forced to. The pipes needed to be replaced anyway. This family got their new water pipes. God showed me how He could take this situation and turn it into something good.'
As a mom, I was proud of Andrew standing up and sharing this story. I wish I could have been there. I want to share another story about what also happened this summer.
As we ate lunch one day, sandwiches, Steven complained about only eating sandwiches. He wanted something else. Andrew got angry and said, "You're being a spoilt brat. The kids at the house I worked on didn't have any food. They went hungry. They'd be happy for a sandwich. After work, we weren't supposed to bring them back to the church, but did so they could eat."
That summer Andrew learned a lot and grew into the wonderful young man and father he is today. He volunteered to go back the following year. This time he helped re-shingle a house. Andrew was only one of the few who were strong enough to carry the bundle of shingles up a ladder.
