Goodbye's Are Hard

We said goodbye to my dad this past week. My dad, Garland Clinton Miller went home to be with his Lord and Savior on Tuesday, March 9, 2010. He left behind a legacy of faith that will live on in countless lives that were touched by him.

Some people would look at his life and see that he never made a lot of money, never found a miracle cure for some terrible disease, travelled extensively or any of the other things that are seen as marks of worldly success. Those people are the same ones that would say he just lived an ordinary life. Those people could not be more wrong. You see, my dad knew the secret to living a life that would be more successful and make more impact than any riches or fame on this earth. To him it was as simple as this...to view everything through the eyes of eternity and to follow after God with his whole heart. He knew that the only thing that really mattered and had lasting impact was a life lived in Jesus Christ. My dad, along with my mom, raised four children, who in turn have raised eight grandchildren, who in turn have given him two great grandchildren (with one more on the way!) He loved everyone of those lives, too!

So what made his life so different from most peoples...just one thing - his commitment and love for Jesus Christ. So, what did my dad accomplish in this life? He was married to my mom for over 57 years and he loved her more the day he died than when they first met. He served our nation in the cause of freedom and was awarded the Bronze Star as a hospital corpsman, attached to the 1st Marine Division at Inchon and Chosin Reservoir. Years later, he told my brother and me that they called the Korean Conflict a "police action", but that it seemed like a war to him. He worked for the same company for more than 40 years and was respected and always worked "as unto the Lord." As I grew into adulthood, I saw him accept and love the woman I married, just as he did his own children. I saw this repeated with every addition to the family, when my brother and sisters were married. In 1978, he met his first grandchild and gave his heart away once more, to a precious granddaughter. Over the years, I think he was the only person who was wrapped tighter around her little finger than me! Over the next 20+ years, he saw six grandsons and one more granddaughter born and he loved everyone of them. In fact, they will all tell you that he loved them too much to let them get away with things they shouldn't! In 2003, he saw his first granddaughter married, to a U. S. Naval officer, and again he accepted and loved him like one of his own! In 2005, he met his first great-grandson and became Papaw G.C. to Mark Garrett and later to Luke. Like all the previous grandchildren, they became Papaw G.C.'s hammerheads! Throughout these years, he served faithfully as a deacon and later an elder at his church. He taught every grandson to hunt and to appreciate the beauty of God's creation. I am sorry that he never had the chance to take his great grandsons hunting, but we will make sure they know what he taught us, and not just about hunting!

On Saturday, we held a memorial service for my dad. The chapel was packed with people who had felt the impact of his life...family, friends, friends of family and even friends of friends, who had been touched in some way, by his life. A number of people said that it was "the best funeral" they had ever attended! He would have liked that. He would have liked the fact that we celebrated his life, more than mourned his passing. In the book of Psalms, Psalm 71 is one that was written by David, as he approached the end of his life. In verse 18, David tells us, "So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come." My dad proclaimed His might to at least three more generations and I have no doubt that will have eternal impacts that we can never imagine!

I was proud to be his friend and hunting companion, but mostly I am proud to have known this quiet man of God as my dad! I will miss him, but I will see him again and we will walk across heaven's expanse together.

I Know A Hero!

This post was written about my Dad, G.C. Miller, about two weeks before he went home to be with the Lord! I find myself missing him in the oddest moments. I miss him when my daughter calls to tell me something his two great-grandsons did or said...you see, I always called him and gave him the latest news about those two, and now I can't. I came across this post and thought it was still something that might mean something to our family and friends.



Well, I suppose I owe an explanation for the reason I have not posted since late November. First there was Christmas and grandsons visiting and then I was busy with work. Then in late January, my dad went into the hospital and has been there until this week, when he was moved to a short-term skilled nursing facility, at least that's what the doctors and health care professionals call it. I could write multiple posts about the state of health care in this country (PLEASE DO NOT READ THAT STATEMENT AS SUPPORT FOR OBAMACARE OR ANYTHING LIKE IT!), but I won't.


I would like to tell you about my dad. You see, I have amazing memories of my dad. One of the first memories I have was when I was about 4 years old. My dad took me and Jack (my first dog, the best pointer ever!) to an area that today is filled with suburban houses and elementary schools, but in those days it was prime quail hunting territory. All I really remember about the trip was that when I became too tired of trying to keep up with what I saw as giant steps, my dad picked me up and carried me on his shoulders back to the car. When I couldn't go any farther, he carried me. I guess you could say that was my first picture of what a father should be like. Over the years, I can remember so many times that my dad either stood beside me or somehow "carried" me and for that I will be eternally grateful and both time and computer memory would fail me should I try to write them all down.

A lot of people throw the word hero around and try to apply it to people whose lives and character is anything but heroic. My dad was different; he was the real thing! I remember that as a child, I learned that my dad had fought in the Korean Conflict and that he had been awarded the Bronze Star for valor in battle, but I did not know the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey would say. I remember vividly, to this day when I heard him tell the story of his wartime experience to my brother and me. It was the summer before I was to marry (we had not told anyone, even our parents at this point) and my dad and brother and I were driving back from a fishing trip, on the Texas coast. I was driving and my dad and brother were dozing as best they could, when my dad realized I was getting that glassy-eyed look and he began to talk in a low volume. We talked about lots of things, but two things stand out to me today. The first was that he looked at me and said that marrying the right woman had meant all the difference in his life, second only to his salvation and relationship with Jesus Christ. I have told this to my kids, to other young people and to anyone who would listen, because it is still true today (funny how that absolute truth thing works!) The second thing he told me was about how he won the Bronze Star.

In September of 1950, the North Korean armies had poured across the 38th parallel and were about to push the South Koreans and the US troops stationed in Korea, off the peninsula and into the sea. Things were desperate and to save the country of South Korea would require desperate measures. This took the form of an amphibious landing at Inchon. There was apparently little confidence on the part of US commanders, that this would be successful. However, they felt they had to do something and this would be it. As it turned out, the US forces, lead by the 1st Marine Division (with whom my dad was assigned as a Navy hospital corpsman) overran the North Koreans and broke out of what was called the Pusan Perimeter. It was during the early parts of the invasion, that my dad won his Bronze Star. It seems that the North Koreans had my dad's unit pinned down with machine gun fire, behind a rice paddy dike. A wounded Marine lay out in the rice paddy, some 300 yards away. As he called out, "Corpsman! I'm hit!", my dad looked at the 1st Sergeant, who told him there was no way to get him back without getting more Marines shot up. My dad told him to get the platoon ready, that he was going over the dike and take 3 Marines with him to bring the wounded man back. My dad said to have everyone fire when he went over the dike, to keep the North Koreans' heads down. It was a good plan, until they reached the wounded Marine. It was at that point that the North Koreans decided they would come to the ball and open up with .50 caliber machine guns again. My dad and the other Marines carried the wounded Marine out and as it turned out no one was hit, except of course the previously wounded Marine, who was shot again (apparently, it was not his day!) My brother and I were both staring at my dad, with open mouths. My dad ended the story by saying, "So, they gave me a medal, but anyone of those guys would have done the same thing." I remember thinking, "I doubt that, dad!" He went on to tell us about his experience at Chosin Reservoir, on the North Korean and Chinese border, when 16,000 Marines of the 1st Division held off more than 160,000 North Koreans and Communist Chinese, in what would go down in the history of the USMC and this nation as the real picture of what is means to defend liberty. At one point, the Marine commander, General "Howlin' Mad" Smith was told to leave behind all his equipment and wounded and retreat to save as many Marines as he could. Smith replied to MacArthur, "No thank you sir! We'll come back just like we went, with all my boys accounted for. Marines do not leave other Marines." After 30 days of sleeping less than 2 hours a day, fighting untold battles with vastly superior forces, eating frozen C-rations and living in temperatures that routinely dropped to -40 below, the men of the 1st Marine Division, including my dad, returned to the port city of Hungnam...with their wounded and dead. When asked by the press about "the retreat", General Smith said, "When you are surrounded it is impossible to retreat! The only thing you can do is attack in a different direction!" The men of the 1st Marine Division became known as "The Chosin Few" and my dad was one of them.

As I look at my dad though, I do not see a war hero, even though he was one. I do not see a man who was hard working engineer who designed and built modern industrial equipment and automated entire sectors of the US spring manufacturing business, even though he did. I do not even see an elder in the church, even though he was. No, when I look at my dad, I see the father that carried me on his shoulders when I couldn't make it on my own. You see, that's a hero...in my book. I know a hero!

The Best Daughter-In-Law...Ever

Just for the record, I have the best daughter-in-law...ever! Meghan and Mark have been married for about 7 months now and everyone in our family agrees that we cannot imagine our family ever being without Meghan. She is a wonderful wife to Mark, friend to Alicia and Tim, a sweet and loving daughter-in-law to Anita and me, and of course the super cool Aunt Meghan to Luke and Mark Garrett! However, she is also an amazing grand-daughter-in-law to Mark's grandparents. This past year, Mark's Mamaw (my mother) continued her fight against breast cancer (we think she is winning!) In light of that, Meghan wanted to do something tangible to support her and other women like her, in this fight. So Meghan has decided to enter the Avon Foundation Walk for Breast Cancer, in honor of my mother. On April 10 and 11, Meghan will go to Houston and walk 39 miles, with hundreds of other walkers. Every walker raises funds that go directly to breast cancer support and research. This is where you come in! I would appreciate and I know Meghan would appreciate any support you can give her. It is very easy to donate and to follow Meghan's training, by going to the following link http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR/Walk/Houston?px=5271398&pg=personal&fr_id=1900&et=7x9WdhG57zMSJ2pmHkkGQA..&s_tafId=404014





Meghan, we love you and are excited to support you in this worthy effort!


Love, Clint

Inadequate At Best!

I have recently blogged about the new Bible Fellowship Group (BFG...Sunday School to most of us!) that Anita and I are part of. Our friend Ron Hewitt and I are teaching the class. Yesterday was one of those Sundays that I had the responsibility of teaching. The previous week, Ron had presented a lesson titled, "The Purpose of Christmas." I wanted to tie into that lesson and bring us to the Advent season, so I taught a lesson entitled, "Why Is Christmas Important?"

As I usually do, when preparing to teach, I intensively study the Scriptures and material I intend to teach from. After the class, as usual, I am left wondering if anything I said actually made a difference. You see, one of the things that frightens me to death when I teach is the thought that something I say will lead someone to a false understanding of my Father! One of the things that I suppose every teacher of God's Word must wrestle with is that in order to bring glory to His name, we must make sure we present His true character. In fact the word "glory" comes from a Greek word that means "to give a correct opinion of." In order to give glory to the Father, we must make sure we are truly and accurately presenting Him to a world that is lost and dieing. There is really nothing that I do in my life that is more important than that.

When I stop to think about it, I actually feel that it is a real blessing that I do feel inadequate. It reminds me that the responsibility for handling the Word of God rightly is truly a weighty one. I pray that He would always inspire my awe with His truth!

Thirty-five Years Later...

I am an Aggie! If you cut me, I will bleed maroon and white. In August of 1973, I left for College Station with my good friends, Steve Burch and Roger Freeman. Steve and I went on to become "old ladies" in the Fightin' Texas Aggie Corps of Cadets...but that's a story for another day. In November of 1974, I formed up with the rest of my outfit, Squadron 12 (Trojan 12!) and marched for what was my last time, into and around Kyle Field. I did not realize it would be my last march-in, but the following fall, finances forced me to transfer to UTA, where I received a B.S. degree in Limnology. I suppose, had I known that it would be my last march-in, I would have drunk in the sights and the sounds and tried to freeze them in my memory. I would have captured the sounds of the Corps and the steady, rhythmic beat of left heels hitting the pavement in time with the bass drums of the Fightin' Texas Aggie Band! I would have frozen the smell and the sounds of the horses and riders from Parson's Mounted Cavalry. But most of all, I would have locked away the amazing feeling that I got as we entered Kyle Field. I can almost hear the command, "Eyes...Right!" and see the snap of the guidon as it is raised and then snapped forward. If I had only known!

However, as Paul Harvey would say, "Now for the rest of the story!" Anita had a dentist appointment with Steve Burch...yes he and his wife Troie moved to Allen the same year we did and he has been our dentist for the past 29 years. Steve asked if we would like to drive down to College Station for the game on Saturday. She said she would talk with me and we would call them back. Steve then said, "If Clint would like to march-in with the Former Corps of Cadets Association, he and I can do that." When Anita asked if I would like to do that, it took at least a second to answer, "Yes!" As I have thought about it this week, I am so thankful that once again, I will get to experience the thrill of marching into Kyle Field with the rest of the Corps. As the poem, The Last Corp Trip, says, "Form up boys, we'll march in behind the band!"

For the uninitiated let me tell you several things about Texas A&M -

• It is the oldest public university in the State;
• Texas A&M has provided more military officers who have served this country, than all three service academies combined;
• Texas A&M has produced more Medal of Honor winners than any other college in the U.S.;
• Texas A&M manages the largest engineering and agricultural extension and education program of any in the world;
• In terms of practical, hands-on applied science and engineering, Texas A&M stands alone.

I am sure this means little to most people. In fact, I like to say that for those who do not understand what it means to be an Aggie, nothing I have said will make you understand; however, for those of you who do understand, I need say nothing! There really is only one word...WHOOP! Gig 'em Aggies!

Another Sign of The End Times

Recently, the Toy Hall of Fame added it's newest member/toy to the ranks of the best toys ever! (See the link http://videogames.yahoo.com/events/plugged-in/game-boy-makes-the-toy-hall-of-fame/1371311) The background noise you hear is the sound of Western civilization crumbling! In what universe does a stupid little electronic weasel of a toy beat out some of the greatest toys ever created like Hot Wheels cars, Transformers, playing cards and sidewalk chalk??!! I am sorry, but there has never been any electronic video game that can compare with toys that actually stimulate a child's imagination. One of my major pet peeves are video games! I believe they come straight from the liberals or from communists bent on the ultimate destruction of the United States! I perhaps am overstating the case, but you get my point...right?!

Seriously folks, who would ever put a Game Boy in the same class as "the ball" or a Big Wheel? How many times have I watched a little boy or girl at a sporting event or the zoo or...you name it, playing with a Game Boy instead of enjoying and participating in the activities surrounding them? Do we really think that a glorified electronic babysitter deserves a berth in the Toy Hall of Fame? I think not! Give me a ball and bat or some sidewalk "chaunk" (according to Mark Garrett it is chaunk, not chalk) any day! The best part of real toys like the ball and sidewalk chalk is that you might actually be forced to play with your child or grandchild. Call me old school, but as they say: "That's what I'm talkin' about!"

How Much Do I Miss?

Lord,
You are awesome and holy and you fill the universe with Your majesty! I fall at your feet in reverence. How often do I miss what You have for me? How often do my plans and my agenda take precedence over what You would have me do or say or be? Once again today, you have shown me that first and foremost, You do not need me to bring about your will and that so often, I just get in Your way. But, Lord, thank you for being so gracious to me and allowing me to just touch the very hem of Your garment.

Today, Lord, in the middle of my busy-ness, you brought a man named Gaylon into my life. Gaylon called and wanted to look at a chair that we had listed on Craig's List. I gave him directions and in about thirty minutes, he showed up at our door. Gaylon was a soft-spoken man who had recently moved to the area from Oklahoma. He was retired and was obviously lonely. He had been a widower for the past 15 years. He mentioned that he had not really met anyone to talk to (apparently he has tried a lot of angles here, including the construction foreman at the apartments being built in his neighborhood!) He liked the chair and immediately said he would take it. However, as he continued to talk about everything and nothing, Lord, you impressed on me that he was lonely and that nothing I had planned or on my really important agenda was more important to You than this 74-year old man! I am so grateful that You saw him through Your eyes, Lord, instead of through mine! As we continued to talk, Lord, You revealed to me exactly what You were about! Not only was he lonely, but he needed a Savior and You were about to let me see You work! As we talked, Gaylon said he had lead a good life, but he wasn't sure it was good enough to get into heaven. By this time, the conversation had moved to the front yard, so I asked him back into the house and we walked through Romans and we reached the point where Gaylon, said, "So it's not really about how good I am, it's about how good Jesus was?" Lord, I couldn't have said it any better! After we prayed, Gaylon asked if I could write these verse down for him, so he could look at them as he put it, "all the time." We talked more about what next steps he should take. As he left, he said, "I came here to buy a chair and I am leaving with something worth a lot more than any chair!" Again, Lord, I couldn't have said it better.

Thank You that You do not let me get in the way of Your plans! And thank You that even in my foolishness and my human weakness, You let me be part of those plans. Lord, teach me to see what I miss and to be open to You!