I think I am over the feeling sorry for myself stage I have been presenting in the last couple of posts. As much as I would love to be home and I look forward to coming home; I have had my chances to do just that, and if I wanted could be back real soon. The thing that keeps me here is I am not that type of person.

With the arthritis in my knee caused by the events in chapter one of my book; I require a waiver to be here. Back at Ada, the military doctor told me that Camp Atterbury would have to process a waiver for me to be able to deploy, and she recommended I not be allowed to deploy. Once at Atterbury the doctor said the only way I would be able to deploy is if my Commander knew of my injuries and restrictions and allowed me to go anyway.

Now that I am here, with my injuries documented all it would take is one trip to sick call and I would be on my way home. My knee has been hurting, mostly from walking on all the rocks over here; but it certainly is bearable. The thing that isn’t bearable is being home because I couldn’t take the pain and decided to check out on my guys here. I don’t just want to be with my family; but I want to be someone my family can be proud to be with.

Over the last eight plus months I have had several memorable, somewhat odd dreams. The first night I was mobilized last November I had a dream of being awakened by explosions from incoming mortar rounds.

Last night I had a dream about our church service back home. I was imagining how our Pastor would mention to remember the fathers who were unable to be with their children; or the sons who were away from their fathers. I dreamed of such a patriotic and moving moment that was surely taking place. I was awakened from this dream by real explosions; all too close albeit just controlled detonations.

Talking to Amy today; my dream was certainly just that. Without me telling her of my dream she spoke of the disappointment that there was no mention at all in the entire service of those of us who are deployed. On top of that, after a recent service Amy was speaking to a staff member who asked if I was home to which she responded I wouldn’t be back until February. Their response was to say, “Oh that must be nice.”

I am thoroughly convinced that the majority of people back home don’t even have a clue about the sacrifice we are making over here and in Iraq. I would say a majority of my readers know; so be sure to remind others that we are here!

Everywhere I go today there are people or signs saying happy Father’s Day. We talked about it in chapel; we had a special cake with Lobster for dinner; yet how can you have a happy Father’s Day when your children are 11,714 km away?

I never even paid much attention to this upcoming day until I read this post. Now I can’t get the image of Sarah sitting on the floor out of my head.

Father’s Day also marks the beginning of senior camp at Tri-State Youth Camp. I have missed camp so many years in a row now it barely seems part of my life. Maybe next year?

Or do you have to make your Tahoe payment instead? I read this short piece about an anonymous donor who gave a computer and printer to a single mother who was featured in a story about poverty.

There is no doubt there are hurting people in your life that desperately need something from you. Some may need financial assistance while others just need someone to talk to. Regardless you know people that you can help. Is your life shaped around helping others or accumulating stuff and the debt that goes with it? Think about it.

I have mentioned it here before, but never really elaborated much about it; not only do I plan on writing a book about our debt and the recovery; I have already begun. In what free time I have over here that is the project that I work on most. I have three chapters complete; two that I am happy with my re-writes to this point. The tentative title I have in mind is Debt Reality.

Months or years away from being published, I have decided to post a teaser chapter here for you. It is the first chapter and it sets up our five year journey to opening the Lazy Susan. Chapter one tells a story most of you have heard me refer to but likely know few details about.

Disclaimer: the contents of this chapter are copyrighted and the property of Joel Maxwell and may not be reproduced without my express written consent.

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