Solitude

I have the good fortune to be staying near Zion National Park this weekend and we’ve seen some amazing country the past day or so. The nature of my current trip is that I get several hours of time alone out in the wilderness each day while my fellow travelers are occupied with other activities. I know some people would dread such time, but for me it comes as a golden opportunity. I crave the wilderness and love a little solitude now and then. Being fairly distractible, I sometimes have trouble relaxing in the midst of my busy life. However, nature relaxes and recharges me. Indeed, I firmly believe that we were designed to respond to the wonders of creation. So I’ve been out hiking, exploring and writing by myself. I even had a nice long nap under a pine tree in the middle of nowhere. We are clearly sociable animals, but we also need to take time away from people occasionally. At this very moment I’m sitting out by a river enjoying the sound of the water. The moon is up and the crickets have just begun their evening serenade. What could be more relaxing or refreshing? These are the kind of moments which calm my spirit and cause me to think more deeply. In this place, at this time of day, the feeling of peacefulness is almost palpable and an overwhelming sense of well being has descended upon me. It’s my favorite kind of feeling. I hope and pray that you may find such corners in your own life to enjoy solitude and I offer one of the poems I penned this afternoon which I hope will provide some inspiration.

Solitude
The world is filled with distractions
And attractions of every kind
Bombarding our senses each waking hour
But where can a man unwind
Where can he flee when his spirit
Longs for a peaceful interlude
When he wishes to keep his own counsel
And find the wisdom of solitude
Then he must flee from the city
Beyond the reaches of men
Beyond the walls of brick and steel
Which enslave his heart time and again
For out in the open spaces
Where only the sound of the wind
Whispers into a man’s weary heart
Can he can hear the still small voice within
By Frank Carpenter ©

Solitude

I have the good fortune to be staying near Zion National Park this weekend and we’ve seen some amazing country the past day or so. The nature of my current trip is that I get several hours of time alone out in the wilderness each day while my fellow travelers are occupied with other activities. I know some people would dread such time, but for me it comes as a golden opportunity. I crave the wilderness and love a little solitude now and then. Being fairly distractible, I sometimes have trouble relaxing in the midst of my busy life. However, nature relaxes and recharges me. Indeed, I firmly believe that we were designed to respond to the wonders of creation. So I’ve been out hiking, exploring and writing by myself. I even had a nice long nap under a pine tree in the middle of nowhere. We are clearly sociable animals, but we also need to take time away from people occasionally. At this very moment I’m sitting out by a river enjoying the sound of the water. The moon is up and the crickets have just begun their evening serenade. What could be more relaxing or refreshing? These are the kind of moments which calm my spirit and cause me to think more deeply. In this place, at this time of day, the feeling of peacefulness is almost palpable and an overwhelming sense of well being has descended upon me. It’s my favorite kind of feeling. I hope and pray that you may find such corners in your own life to enjoy solitude and I offer one of the poems I penned this afternoon which I hope will provide some inspiration.

Solitude
The world is filled with distractions
And attractions of every kind
Bombarding our senses each waking hour
But where can a man unwind
Where can he flee when his spirit
Longs for a peaceful interlude
When he wishes to keep his own counsel
And find the wisdom of solitude
Then he must flee from the city
Beyond the reaches of men
Beyond the walls of brick and steel
Which enslave his heart time and again
For out in the open spaces
Where only the sound of the wind
Whispers into a man’s weary heart
Can he can hear the still small voice within
By Frank Carpenter ©

Honor and Pride

We had the privilege last night of attending a graduation ceremony at the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department Academy, where two young friends of our family have just completed their law enforcement training. Having had no previous exposure to such an event, we were amazed at how meaningful it turned out to be. First of all, I personally felt a little naked, lacking both a uniform and a sidearm. Once I got over that, however, the evening was truly inspiring. When an evening begins with an impressive color guard unit, the national anthem and an invocation which is actually a prayer to God, a patriotic conservative like me can rest assured that what follows will generally be worthwhile. It did not disappoint. What I witnessed was an extremely devoted group of trainers and administrators taking time to honor a class of young men and women who have spent 23 weeks preparing for an important, and often dangerous, career in law enforcement. Their pride, tradition and commitment were evident and offered us a fresh perspective on those who work to protect and serve us every day.

Upon reflection, I have come to realize that our law enforcement officers are some of the truly
unsung heroes of modern society. They got a little extra respect immediately following September 11, having lost many of their own in the World Trade Center, but we continue thank them far too rarely. In the past I have written at length about those who serve in the military, but last night reminded me that those who serve in law enforcement are our neighborhood military, helping to keep the streets safe for all of us. For that service, we all owe a significant debt of gratitude. The keynote speaker at last night’s commencement quoted some previous remarks made by Chief Justice Warren Berger at an FBI academy graduation which I felt were particularly poignant. I was unable to find the exact quotes on the internet, but take the liberty of paraphrasing them. The main point was that a peace officer lives every day upon the front line of the law. In a very real way our government, justice system, laws and national values intersect with citizens through those who serve in law enforcement. They must act on behalf of both the letter and heart of the law, having the unique privilege and responsibility to interpret and enforce that law and the will of people whom they serve. And sometimes this must even be done under fire. Every day we call upon them to make value judgments which affect their lives, the lives of others and the community at large. That is a great deal to ask of any individual. For this, I call upon all my fellow citizens to offer both their appreciation and gratitude.

Perhaps the heart of what I felt last night, and what I also wish to share with others, is best captured by the law enforcement code of ethics which the entire graduating class recited from memory at the close of the ceremony. I offer it below, along with a fond hope that all of us will endeavor to show the appropriate respect which our men and women in law enforcement deserve. So I close today with a heartfelt congratulations to Kyle, James and their entire class of highly trained graduates. We salute your honor and pride.

Code of Ethics
As a Law Enforcement Officer, my fundamental duty is to serve mankind; to safeguard lives and property; to protect the innocent against deception, the weak against oppression or intimidation, and the peaceful against violence or disorder; and to respect the Constitutional Rights of all persons to liberty, equality, and justice.

I will keep my private life unsullied as an example to all; maintain courageous calm in the face of danger, scorn, or ridicule; develop self-restraint; and be constantly mindful of the welfare of others. Honest in thought and deed in both my personal and official life, I will be exemplary in obeying the laws of the land and the regulations of my department. Whatever I see or hear of a confidential nature or that is confided to me in my official capacity will be kept ever secret unless revelation is necessary in the performance of my duty.

I will never act officiously or permit personal feelings, prejudices, animosities, or friendships to influence my decisions. With no compromise for crime and with relentless prosecution of criminals, I will enforce the law courteously and appropriately without fear or favor, malice, or violence and never accepting gratuities.

I recognize the badge of my office as a symbol of public faith, and I accept it as a public trust to be held so long as I am true to the ethics of law enforcement. I will constantly strive to achieve these objectives and ideals, dedicating myself before God to my chosen profession.... law enforcement.

Heart of Oak

I had occasion this past week to tour the U.S.S. Constitution, the oldest naval vessel afloat in the world. Any of my regular readers will know that I have a soft spot for ships and the sea, but I was especially impressed with this particular American icon. The Constitution was commissioned in 1797, when Thomas Jefferson was president, in an effort to bolster our fledgling navy. She was of a new design and built heavily from several kinds of virgin American oak, almost two feet thick in some areas of her hull. She received the nickname “Old Ironsides” after a battle with a British ship in the War of 1812, during which some of the enemy cannonballs were said to have bounced off her sides. After a long and distinguished career she grew old and nearly rotted out of existence on two different occasions. However, this proud ship seems to have a special place in the collective American heart because she has twice been brought back from near extinction and has just finished yet another complete restoration. Even though the Constitution is a 225 year old sailing ship, it remains on the list of active vessels with the U.S. Navy and still sails once in a while. I believe America loves this old ship because she represents something uniquely American. She was the first full fledged heavy ship of war designed and built in this country and she proved herself superior at a time that our new nation needed such an icon. Now she provides a valuable link with our past, our freedom, and its ongoing preservation.

If you ever have a chance to visit the U.S.S. Constitution in Boston I strongly encourage it, but it’s also easy to Google and read about as well. We have a rich naval heritage and such icons as this ship serve as a valuable reminder thereof. Much of what made her so formidable in her day, and the reason she is so worth preserving now, has to do with what she represents to us as a people. Old Ironsides has been around nearly as long as this great nation and continues to be a valuable part of our legacy of freedom. Also, in times like these when our young men and women are being called upon to fight overseas on our behalf, she serves as a welcome reminder of what they are fighting for. I have several young friends at the Naval Academy and currently serving in our Navy overseas as well. So I dedicate today’s poem to them and to their valued service on behalf of our country at sea and abroad.

Heart of Oak
They have often called her Ironsides
Though she was not iron at all
But oak of North America
And built for duty’s call
To spearhead the fledgling navy
Of these newly united states
And defend their shores and borders
As the keeper of their gates
Constructed by New England craftsmen
Upon their native soil
Which they so recently had won
Through blood and strife and toil
She was the vessel and a symbol
Of their new found liberty
And she never met her equal
In her service on the sea
No enemy by force has ever
Set foot upon her decks
She never knew defeat in battle
Where she earned honor and respect
The U.S.S. Constitution
Still floats proud and tall
An enduring icon from our past
With a message for us all
Peace and freedom come through struggle
And when swirls the battle smoke
Freedom still needs men and ships
With hearts of American oak
By Frank Carpenter ©

You can learn more about the Constitution by clicking on the following link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Constitution

Remembering September 11th

Today is September 11th, the 5th anniversary of the attack on America. I am in Boston today, the cradle of American freedom and democracy. The tragedy of September 11 was brought home to me yesterday afternoon when we came upon a monument in the Public Garden commemorating the Bostonians who lost their lives on that day, including a list of those names. Here, on the east coast, the loss seems all the more poignant. I have included a photo of part of that memorial herewith. Early this morning, I walked to historic Trinity Church to pray and they, like so many other institutions, are hosting multiple services to honor the fallen we remember today. As I walked back, several planes were flying above the city towing American flags and signs with the words, “We will never forget.” I have written many times before about the military and political aspects of this day and our long term response, but today is simply a day to remember. In order to put its scope into prospective once again, let’s review the casualty statistics once again. Here are how many people we lost at each attack venue:
In the Twin Towers 2595
Flight 11 92
Flight 175 65
In the Pentagon 125
Flight 77 64
Shanksville, Pennsylvania
Flight 93 45

A total of 2, 986 people lost their lives that day. Yet, that is only part of the story. Based upon that unthinkable number, consider how many widows, orphans and widowers were left, along with how many people must have lost sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, grandparents, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends and so forth. The impact to families, congregations, corporate staffs, neighborhoods and the like makes for a staggering set of permutations, not to mention the emotional effect on the rest of us all these thousands of miles away. As we digest those numbers, let us remember that more Americans were killed on September 11th than we have lost in three years of armed conflict in Afghanistan and Iraq combined. As an additional point of reference, only 2, 403 Americans were killed in the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941. However, in stark contrast, the victims of the attacks on September 11th were all unarmed civilians, which makes their mass murder all the more heinous. No, we really should never forget.

The people behind those attacks have also been responsible for the attacks in Madrid bombing and the more recent bombings in England. These people clearly are not satisfied with military targets. They are after you and me and our children and our very way of life. We really cannot afford to forget.

The news and media are abuzz today with special reports and live coverage of memorial services being held in New York, the Pentagon, Pennsylvania and various other locations. Churches are holding services. Signs and flags are up everywhere. In the midst of these tributes let us join together once again to console one another, let us remember … and let us turn to face future threats against us by presenting a united front. We said we would never forget … may it be so.

Tracks

No matter what we say, no matter how we portray ourselves to others, time always tells the true tale of a man’s or woman’s life. When we, or others, look back over the life we have lead, the footprints we have left behind will reveal much about our lives. I’ve heard it said that hindsight is always 20/20 and there is great wisdom in that statement. We may fool others, we may even fool ourselves, but those who look upon our tracks afterward will see clearly where our paths have actually lead. And, without a doubt, God always knows where we’ve been and what we have done as well. Armed with that knowledge, perhaps we would be wise to reconsider the course of our lives on a regular basis and endeavor to select trails that will produce the legacy we would choose to leave in our wakes. All of us have made our share of poor choices in the past, but every day offers us fresh opportunities to chart a new course ... and the chance to leave a new and better trail behind us.

Tracks
I was walking in the desert
with no living thing in sight
Yet, across the sand were countless tracks
left by creatures in the night
I was struck by the diversity
of the tiny prints I found
From every creature who had recently
crossed that patch of lonely ground
And even with my knowledge
which was limited at best
I could tell much about the animals
with but an educated guess
I could make out snakes and lizards
rabbits, bugs and mice and birds
Guess their speed and their direction
without a book or spoken word
All these things were clearly evident
not hard to see or understand
Like tiny signatures each creature
left upon the empty desert sand
And it comes to mind that each
of us has left a trail too
Surely in the snow or desert
sand or early morning dew
But, more importantly, our tracks
are left upon the life we’ve led
By the things we have accomplished
we have created or we’ve said
Some will leave their tracks in ink
or paint, or notes upon a page
Some will leave impressions made
by acts of kindness or of rage
Some will build and some will plant
throughout their journey here
Leaving tracks on countless strangers
and the people they hold dear
However lightly we may step
upon the sands we cross each day
Our tracks will surely tell the tale
long after we have passed that way
What story will my own tracks tell
when others come upon
My foot prints in the sand of life
once I have traveled on?
Will the direction which they indicate
the pace, the gait, the girth
Point to a life of purpose
one of merit and of worth?
Will they indicate that I’d not
passed this way, somehow, in vain?
That I had left a wake of kindness
rather than a trail of pain
The tracks I want the world to find
are ones that served my fellow man
Tracks that honor what I cherished most
and obeyed my Master’s plan
So I shall choose my steps more carefully
for now I better understand
The kind of tracks I want to leave ...
where once I scurried across the sand
By Frank Carpenter ©