No matter how bad things may seem at times, I truly believe that most people want to make a difference in the world. I'm not saying that I don't think people are inherently sinful, because I believe that we are. But if even a wild animal can try to make things better for its offspring, then I believe that humans will instinctively do the same.

Some days, like today, I question how a difference can really be made. I think most of us start out wanting to change things, but we get caught up with just trying to survive. Some folks, like myself, even go into a field where the pay is poor just because it looks like a place to help people. Unfortunately, such jobs tend to leave us surrounded by an army of cynics that, in an often unconscious manner, shoot down our every attempt to leave the world better off than it was when we found it.

I guess the thing I need to accept is that none of us really can make a difference. It's out of our hands. If it's God's will that my words and actions become a blessing to somebody else, then they will be. If it's not, then it's not only a futile effort but an overly proud one. If I am open to Him, God will use me. But it certainly is not my business to determine how.

I think the biggest changes we make in the world are those that we rarely even see. If I were to pick up a rock and throw it as far as possible, it would be easy for me to see. But if I were to, by sheer will, move the moon a hundred miles, from this distance I would not be able to tell. And yet, the effect that I can't even see is the one that makes the biggest and ultimately the most impacting change in the world.

In much the same way, the most important impact we make in life may be the one so subtle that God, in His particular sense of humor, is almost certainly the architect of. We don't even consciously do it. I think that the biggest effect we have on the world is simply by existing in it. Just having the courage to continue living in this world and refusing to let it change who we are is, in my estimation, the most powerful tool that He gives us.

Sometimes, God pushes us in directions that we don't really want to go. Sometimes, He puts us in situations where we do not feel safe. Even though it's hard to accept, there are good reasons why this happens.

When we are comfortable, we tend not to grow. In just about any aspect of life, be it mental, physical, or spiritual, we do not grow unless we are put under stresses. After all, it's human nature to be lazy. If you don't believe that, look how easy we've made our lives with innovation.

More importantly, being in situations where we feel like we can't survive on our own gives us an opportunity to depend entirely on the unseen. It's easy to be a good person when you are in control of everything around you and everything is going your way, but to get through a situation where you have absolutely no control forces you to hand things over to God.

There have been a lot of times that I've fought the direction God is pushing me. In some cases, this was because of a fear of the unknown. In other cases, it was because I was convinced I was doing the most good where I currently was. But in the end, God always wins the argument with me. It may take years at times, but he always wins. And it's a good thing he does, because it is only then that I achieve the purest joys in life.

Only in looking back does the purpose of it ever become clear.

Just a few days ago, Benjamin Smith was killed in Iraq. I had the unique experience of both playing football with him (he was a freshman when I was a senior) and coaching him. I also coached his little brother, Jacob, through his entire high school football career.

Ben was always a quiet kid, as everyone will remember, but he was always tough on the field. He had that unique kind of grit that allowed him to go out there and place kick under any noise, weather, and field conditions. He was one of the few toe-kickers I'd known, and had a special squared-off boot that he'd have to run to the sideline and slip on before every kick.

Ben's friends had a nickname for him: Mudcat. He hated that nickname. If I remember right, Jared Bogard gave him that name because he "kicked like a mudcat." But as much as he hated it, it stuck. Fans in the crowd would be chanting it whenever he walked off his steps before a place kick.

One of my favorite memories of Ben is from his freshmen year. I still have this one on tape, in fact. It was my last homecoming game and we were up by quite a margin. Ben was subbed in as our place kicker, as he was the only backup (even though he was a freshman). I don't think he'd ever kicked in a varsity game before, at least not one with this kind of crowd. Ben stepped back, waited for the ref to whistle, and then ran forward and connected that square boot with the football. Somehow, and I don't know how he could have done this again even if he'd wanted to, he kicked a line drive into the crotch of the guy on the return team about 12 yards straight in front of him. As funny as that was, my friend Seth even got us the ball back during the same play by laying on the ground like he had recovered the football. He managed to fake out the refs when the ball was actually under a pile of players about a yard away.

You'd be lucky to get a laugh out of Ben, and I don't remember ever seeing a full-blown smile on his face. If there was one forming, he'd always seem to fight it off. But when I saw his picture in his dress blues in the local paper, I could see he had found a place where he was truly happy.

This is a sad moment in my hometown. And yes, this is very tragic. But I can't help the fact that this makes me very proud. I coached a young man who loved his country enough to give his life for it. He put himself on the line and made the ultimate sacrifice so that wimps like me can sit here and type.

Wherever you are Ben, thank you. Thank you not only for your sacrifice, but for finding something that brought the kind of smile to your face that I never got to see before.

---

CARTERVILLE MARINE KILLED IN IRAQ

BY JOHN D. HOMAN
THE SOUTHERN
[Thu Sep 23 2004]

CARTERVILLE -- The American flag was lowered to a somber half-staff Thursday morning at Carterville High School and throughout town as word quickly spread that one of the community's unsung heroes had fallen.

Benjamin Smith, a 24-year-old 1999 graduate of Carterville high school, was reported killed in action Wednesday in the Al Anbar province of Iraq. Smith was a sergeant and tank commander with C Co. 1st Tank Battalion, 1st Marine Division headquartered in Twentynine Palms, Calif. He was killed by an explosion when engaged by the enemy.

Smith was the son of Kim and Jim Smith of Carterville.

Family spokesman Bob Church said Smith's parents were "totally at a loss" in hearing of their son's death late Wednesday. Smith was scheduled to arrive home on leave Oct. 10.

"We've probably had over 100 people by the house today," Church said.

Church, a relative of the family and a 30-year veteran of the Marine Corps, was called to the house by family members after two Marines, a gunnery sergeant and a captain, arrived at the Smith residence about 8:45 p.m. Wednesday. He helped deliver the news.

"It's pretty shocking when two Marines in uniform show up at a door in the dark of night. You know what the news is going to be," said Church, who was called upon to make such notifications during his military career. "The first reaction is pure shock. You want to say, 'no.' You don't want to believe it."

The news of Smith's death came only hours after a family in Du Quoin laid their Marine son to rest Wednesday. Drew Uhles was the first known soldier from the heart of Southern Illinois killed in Iraq.

Marion High School teacher and football coach Kerry Martin, who taught Smith social studies in high school and coached him in football for four years at Carterville, described Smith as a great person.

"All the memories I have of him are positive," Martin said. "Because there are so many young men who go into the service, it's real difficult at times to stay connected. But there's a certain bond that is formed with the teacher and student or coach and player that is never lost. His mother always kept me up to date with his progress, too."

Martin said Smith was a quiet and kind young man who led by example rather than words.

"A lot of the other kids looked up to Ben," he said. "I never heard of any of his teammates saying anything negative about him. That says a lot about his character."

A four-year letterman in football, Smith was a back-up place-kicker and defensive lineman for the Lions' 1996 state championship team and became a starting defensive end and kicker as an upperclassman.

"Although Ben was a quiet kid, I never doubted his commitment to the game," Martin said. "He was very dedicated to what we were trying to accomplish with our football program."

Ex-teammate Zach Schumacher said he was saddened to hear the news of Smith's passing.

"I was a sophomore when Ben was a senior on the football team, and I can remember how he would say just the right things when I made a mistake," Schumacher said. "He basically said everyone messes up from time to time and not to worry about it. When Ben had something to say, believe me, it meant something."

Jared Bogard, who entered the military a year after high school, had been close friends with Smith since elementary school.

"My mother called me this morning with the news," he said. "I don't even know what to say. Ben was a buddy. He kept to himself a lot and was never real outspoken, but we enjoyed hanging out together."

Bogard, who was recently discharged from the Navy after a four-year stint, said Smith was with the Marines for five years.

"I'm definitely going to miss him when we go jug fishing," he said. "He enjoyed that a lot."

Ami (Buschschulte) Waldron of Carterville had clicked onto the Internet Thursday morning when she came across the picture and story of her former classmate.

"This just hits too close to home for me," Waldron said fighting back tears. "There were times we hung out together with friends. He used to date one of my friends. We weren't close friends, but we went to school together from the sixth grade on."

Carterville High School English instructor Becky Clark said she learned the sad news about Smith at a Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting Thursday morning.

"Ben was a very quiet, but hard-working boy," she said. "He got along well with the other students and exhibited good, strong morals due to his family upbringing. He was pretty much an A/B student in my class."

Clark said she has known Smith's family for years and feels badly for their loss. "Ben was the kind of young man you could always depend on. You always remember the good kids."

Former history instructor Bruce Childers described Smith as very polite and one who always worked hard to be the best student that he could be. "Ben was the type of kid you were proud to have represent your country," Childers said.

Carterville Superintendent Tim Bleyer is another who has known the Smith family for years.

"Ben's dad was a year behind me in school," he said. "And I coached Ben in Little League. He was a quiet boy but very well-liked."

Bleyer said Americans have become callous to the everyday activities in Iraq -- days that often times result in more bloodshed.

"When something like this happens to someone in your community, it really brings it home," Bleyer said. "You can talk about patriotism and love of country, but it's still a young man dying and that's a tragic thing for any family, school, or community."

---

Feel like a hypocrite? You aren't alone.

One of the things I hate about people being charged with hypocrisy is that it is such an easy claim to make and impossible to deny. All of us, at least those of us that are interesting, are deeply conflicted.

Part of this just seems to be in our nature. If you think about it, it makes sense. We're more than animals, but less than angels. We're physical creatures, but we are driven more strongly by thoughts and feelings than more tactile stimuli.

No matter how fake you feel with the image you portray, rest assured that we all do it. As long as the image really is a part of you, you aren't phony. You know the people who are the funniest in public? They cry more at home than anyone. You know the people who have everything organized and controlled at school and at work? They have much less control in their personal lives. You know those people who succeed at everything they do? It's only because they've dared to make more mistakes than anyone else has the guts to withstand.

We're all hypocrites. The only difference is that some of us are liars, too.

And to keep me from being too elated by the abundance of revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to harass me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I besought the Lord about this, that it should leave me; but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." I will all the more gladly boast of my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

2 Corinthians 12:7-9

I don't think I've ever completely understood this verse in the past. I've always been taught that the point of this verse is that God will allow thorns to keep us humble. I think that's certainly a part of this verse, but there is more there and experience is showing it to me.

Staying humble is great, but I've seen a lot of people turn their greatest weaknesses in to strengths. Recovering alcoholics become counselors. Sick children become doctors. People with ADD become teachers.

Staying humble is great, but that's not the point of life. God doesn't give us thorns just to make us humble. He gives them to us so that we might be great.

It's always nice to have someone express appreciation for you doing your job. Still, it raises an important question for me.

Why? Specifically, why do we need to be thanked for doing our jobs?

This happened to me today. Yes, it's nice. When I was thanked, it was very nice and brought a smile to my face. But for some reason, there are a lot of folks I've seen who simply can't (or won't) do their job if they aren't constantly given positive feedback.

I guess this is something that comes up with me a lot. Everywhere I've ever worked, I've gotten a lot of compliments from my co-workers and supervisors. Some of it has certainly been in an effort to set me up, without a doubt, but most has certainly been legitimate.

It's always nice to get work-related compliments, however I sometimes am amazed when I get thanked for what (at least to me) isn't special. Maybe I am special, but I refuse to accept that. I'm only what I think the average person should be. If I'm not, it doesn't speak to well for the rest of the world.

I'm not a stay-at-home dad. Actually, I'm home about half the days with my daughter. And it's worth it.

A lot of folks have questioned my choice to do it this way and have for years. My wife and I were both planning on this since early in our marriage. I used to care what others thought about it, even though it certainly didn't stop me. But I know it's worth it now.

Every day I get to see and experience new things with Madi. Today she crawled a few inches on her own. Yesterday she was able to shake a pretty heavy rattle on her own. The day before that, she learned how to push herself around on her back.

There are sacrifices for doing this, to be sure, but not as many as people think. I read years ago that when the second parent works when there is a young child, they end up losing the first $10,000 they make at that job thanks to increased taxes, fuel, work clothes, and child care. Since I only work part time, it isn't quite that bad. Still, it's pretty bad.

In the end, staying home as a full-time parent may not be as expensive as it sounds. Certainly, the benefits are great. I'm scared to do it right now, but I'm thinking that if I figured in what it costs me to work, it may not really be worth it. Either way, I'm glad my wife and I decided that I would stay home part of the time.

This country is evil. Life sucks. Politicians are corrupt. It's like that everywhere. Believe that? It's a cop-out.

It's not easy to believe in things. Or anything at all, for that matter. But I refuse to be cynical.

What is easy is to sit back and throw bombs at everything from a distance. I see it everywhere on the Web, in the news, and in office chatter. Well, if you want to stand from a safe distance to piss and moan at everything, you are a coward. It's easy to not think things can change because that means you don't have to try to change anything!

Anyone can hate, distrust, and close up. But it takes a brave soul to dare to love, give people the chance to decide whether they are trustworthy or not, and open up about who you are and where you belong in this world.

Don't be a coward.

Many parents would love for their children to be rich and famous, but my goals for Madi are a little less selfish. Ultimately, I want her to be what she wants and I am going to do my best not to constrain her.

Dear Madi,

I hope you are comfortable with who you are, even if you are never satisfied. I hope you define yourself by who you are, and not what you do. I hope you will defy me at times, but know the difference between the time to debate and the time to listen. I hope you will have the strength to do what is right, even if I don't agree with you. I hope you will discover all of your talents and never limit yourself. I hope you will listen to everyone, but will be careful whom you believe. I hope you will understand that sometimes it hurts to do what is best for those you care about. I hope that you can find any hope at all in an often hopeless world.

Ultimately, I hope that if you want none of the things I hope for you that you will find better things to hope for. I hope you will live your life and never mistake it for mine or anyone else's.

Love,
Daddy

This is difficult for me to write about, but it's something that I haven't been able to get out of my mind and heart for days. I am a believer in the axiom that there is no such thing as a problem without a gift in its hands, but that doesn't mean that the gift is necessarily of equal value to the problem. This is certainly one of those cases. What I'm about to tell you about led me to both tears of sadness and joy as I spent the weekend reading about it.

My wife told me on Friday about a woman who recently had a baby. Without giving too much information, let's just say that she didn't take very good care of herself. In fact, that's putting it in terms that are far too mild. The result of her selfishness was giving birth to a baby without a brain.

I didn't even know such a thing was possible, but it turns out that this is a disease called anencephaly and is closely related to spinal bifida. This is one of the pantheon of diseases that folic acid helps to prevent, but this isn't always the result of any malnurishment or drug use. Sometimes it just happens.

I wondered how this could happen and how the babies could even be born alive and decided to do an Internet search. I ended up finding thousands of pages written by parents about their experiences. The stories were all so similar and yet each was quite unique. Around the third trimester, each mother was trying to determine the babies sex and described the same shocked doctors. Once they learned of the disease, many still wanted to know the baby's sex and the doctors often had an "it doesn't matter" attitude. They say this because about half of the babies with anencephaly are miscarried or stillborn. Of those that do survive through their birth, most never make it past 24 hours of life (although some live for several days).

Once this condition is diagnosed, the parents are given a choice: termination or live birth. Many parents, knowing their child will die anyway, end up opting for termination. I certainly can't judge them for this decision and many of the mothers I read about don't judge them either. But what many of them didn't realize is that they still end up giving "birth", the difference being that it is induced immediately.

Those that decided to go with a natural, full-term birth were warned of the monsters they would be seeing. Most of these babies will have a portion of their skulls missing entirely, anywhere from just around the eyebrows to a small dime-sized circle at the top of their heads.

As I read further, I found story after story where mothers described how their children were not monsters at all and how perfect they looked. Once they were born, they would put a little cap on their heads just as with any newborn and you could barely tell any difference. Eventually, I worked up the courage to look at a few pictures... and they were telling the truth! These were nothing like the monsters that their doctors were describing and each, in his or her own way, was indeed beautiful and perfect.

You may be wondering, as was I, how these children could live at all. It turns out that as long as there is a spinal cord, the baby can maintain a heartbeat. Even more than that, they can sometimes breath on their own. Ultimately, they die because there are too many bodily functions that depend on the brain and outside their mothers, they simply can't keep up.

The other things they can do are what absolutely amazed me. These babies without brains could do so many things that I would never have expected. Many people don't believe in a soul or spirit and I realize that there is no way to prove directly that they exist, but these stories seem to defy any other explaination.

What was so incredibly inspiring for me was how these parents, praying for as much as a day with their child, savored so many things I take for granted. Even things that can irritate me with my own child were so completely precious to the parents lucky enough to have their child survive birth. Some were born crying. Most were able to coo and wimper. They could move their arms and legs and were even ticklish. A few could open their eyes. Some could suck their thumbs and nurse. They could react to noises and sometimes even smiled when their parents would sing. I even read about parents that were overjoyed to get to change a few diapers during those bittersweet hours.

In short, I read parents describe and saw pictures of them loving and caring for their children just as any of us would. They loved their children so much that they gave them a few hours of love and attention that they otherwise would completely miss. They did this, rather than terminating, in spite of their fears and the pain that they, as parents, would carry with them forever.

The more that I read, what started as tears of heartache and pity became tears of joy and even shame of so many things that I have not cherished. Although I've never verbalized any dislike of changing diapers, it used to bother me. It doesn't anymore. As tired as I am sometimes, I don't mind getting up with my daughter because it gives me one more chance to hold her in my arms and tell her how much I love her.

As I write this, I am still fighting tears. Thinking of all the stories of these babies, nearly all described by their parents as angels here for a short visit, inspires me to strive to love my daughter with as much love and sacrifice as these parents. I don't know if I could do what they did and make the same decisions in spite of all the pain and fears, but I sincerely admire them for having that courage and for sharing their experiences with parents as spoiled as I am.