Bye bye

Few things are as sweet as the sound of a two year old saying bye bye. It has a certain innocence and is something that can be repeated every two steps. My son first learned to say bye bye at the day care not to me or his mom or teachers for that matter but to the air planes over head. His day care was right under the flight path of Carswell NAS/JRB and since that fateful september day the planes have been very frequent. Our humble abode is also under the flight path of most of the training jets. You learn to pause conversations while the planes are over head and pick up wher you left off easily. The planes no longer disturb my naps I've gotten so used to them. Unlike Thomas Merton who also lived under the path of the American war birds I find the sound to be reassuring. I often offer up a prayer of thanks for the sacrifices that many men and women have made for us and for comfort for the families of thes tha serve. When ever my son sees or hears a plane he says bye bye and the sweetness of that and what it means to me helps me to understand that the price of what blessings we have in America is high. And even greater is the price of our salvation.

Grace and Peace, Mark