I recently celebrated a birthday. There were plenty of years I did not celebrate it – not because of any reason other than I was not with a group of people for whom it wasn’t on “their radar.” As best I can remember all the birthdays between high school graduation and leaving the service of the US Navy passed by. A lot of the time I was at sea and spent my birthday on watch. I know the date was in my personnel file. But I only remember celebrating the Commanding Officer’s birthday and that was because his wife had bribed the Supply Officer to make it happen. Upon returning to dry land, there was always a stack of birthday cards and well wishes waiting for me. From family and close friends, people for whom my birthday was important. Every year they remembered
Your Baptism
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In 
To date the posts about Kenya have been about my time there. One regular reader inquired how I decided to go on mission, what was the discernment process, and other questions that pertain to “before Kenya.” In thinking about how to address the question it seems to me that the answer resides partly in the context of the life lived to that point in time, memories that persist with a certain clarity, and some measure of serendipity – at last in my case anyway.
We are coming up on Memorial Day weekend – a traditional start of summer – and the advent of backyard grilling, baseball games, picnics, and all manner of gatherings…. and another season in which to perfect your preparation of the hot dog. So… for your reading enjoyment: 
I have been thinking about manners and the cultural norms of what is considered polite and orderly. The topic has come to the fore of thought as I recall stories and events from Kenya. I found the norms of Kenya very familiar to the ones I knew growing up. I knew many missionaries in Kenya that were surprised that they were thought to be rude – something that was foreign to everything they perceived about themself. But then cross-cultural living often had that effect.
In our Pentecost Sunday 
In case you were wondering, yes, this is my day off – hence the proliferation of posts. This one was inspired because this morning morning at a store, I saw that they offer a 10% discount to veterans. As it happens, I am one, and my Virginia driver’s license displays “VETERAN” in the upper right hand corner. I inquired, ready to show my license, but the discount was simply applied without question. Maybe that makes sense. I hope people would not lie about service to their country for a small discount. 
friarmusings 