What Makes a Hero?

Some days I find it hard to come up with something to write that I think you might want to read. I've had a lot of those days lately. That is why I'm so thankful for an anonymous reader who left a comment about heroes.

My reader commented:
I was watching "AN OFFICER and A GENTLEMAN" I want to know what makes a hero. Is it the person who achieves their goals when they really should not have...Or is a hero who quietly take care of all things small and mundane. Or is a hero someone who handles huge tragedies. Just my wondering thoughts. What is a true hero. Maybe you can help.

I have to tell you that I may be at a bit of a disadvantage on this one because I've never seen the movie. So I can't tell you anything based on the film. But thank goodness all this person asked for is my opinion, and you know I'm quite capable of giving you that!

First, I run to my PDA and look up the word--hero.
A person noted or admired for nobility, courage, outstanding achievements, etc.

The definition seems pretty simple and straightforward, but my mind starts to unfold it like an origami swan.

Do I admire anyone because of their nobility?
I'm sorry, but last names, family crests, and blue blood doesn't impress me. I've lived long enough and seen enough to know that heroes and scoundrels can come from the same household.

So I lean toward the courageous, outstanding achievers.
Courageous... Is that the foot soldier who's courage leads him to fight the enemy? The fireman who courageously enters a burning home to save a life? The police officer willing to risk his life to catch the bad guy? Yes, all these people are heroes. And could a hero also be the young unwed expectant mother who is courageous enough to choose to give her baby life rather than aborting it? What about the child who takes on killer cancer with a smile? And the woman who cares for her invalid husband every minute of every day, what about her? Do you think it takes courage to care for aging parents and honor their wishes not to be put in a rest home? Every day, somewhere in this country, a man walks away from his wife and responsibilities. A woman is left to raise and provide for children alone. She's got to have guts to get out of bed the next day. In this country everyday there are also men making the choice to face their fears or suffer unpleasant circumstances to care and provide for their families. Sometimes "keeping on keeping on" takes courage.

One day while my husband and I were engaged in Los Angeles traffic, (Rick behind the wheel and I in the passenger seat) I looked at him and told him, "You are my hero." (They call it the City of Angels maybe because you need more than one guarding you if you are going to live through a drive on the freeway!) I know I don't have the courage it takes to do what my husband does to provide for our family. So, he is a hero in my book. He's MY hero.

The saints of old listed in the book of Hebrews, we refer to as "heroes of the faith." Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Rahab are just some that, by faith, followed and obeyed God, exemplifying courage and making outstanding achievements in their lifetime. They didn't toot their own horn and they didn't have medals pinned to their chests. But the Bible says that they gained approval from God because of their faith. So maybe an unshakable faith in God is what makes a hero. At least a hero in the Christian faith.

I'm still unfolding.

Joni Eareckson Tada is a hero. Joni, and others like her, have faced overwhelming circumstances with courage, unshakable faith, and have made outstanding achievements. Thousands of heroes just like her do not enjoy the same notoriety, but they are no less a hero. At least that's my opinion.

Like beauty, existing in the eye of the beholder, maybe heroics is a matter of opinion. When someone does something that seems to me to require much courage, and their outstanding accomplishments change me or my life for the better, I classify them as a hero.

So, after pondering the question, "What makes a hero?" I've decided it must be someone of great faith and courage who makes accomplishments that I perceive to be outstanding or life changing.

To someone else, you may be a hero! We all have the potential, do we not?

I'm a louse.

Take a human heart overfilled with love, bind it very tightly with 100 ropes of fear, soak it for eight weeks in a vat of volatile female mid-life hormones, sprinkle it repeatedly with bad news, injustice, and unpleasant surprises, stuff it in an earthen vessel with a really big mouth, then stomp on it! What do ya get? A knee-jerk reaction comparable only to the eruption of Mt. Saint Helens.

Last night a couple of my family members spent a lot of time and energy telling me what a louse I am and how badly I behave. In keeping with my 2009 resolve, they are right.

Though they have greatly misjudged the intentions of my heart, they have right to criticize my behavior.

So to those I love so deeply that I have hurt so badly, I say--I'm sorry.

If you can, through forgiveness, look past the crudeness an imperfections of the big mouthed clay pot, scrape off the layers of circumstantial crud, wash away the unstable hormones, and somehow cut through the tethers of fear, you will find more love, pride, encouragement, support, and hope than you can measure. I love you. I believe in you, and I'm proud of you because of who you are, not because of what you do. No other woman could have finer sons and daughters and I'm blessed to be married to a man that tells me when I'm acting like a jerk.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have an old broken jar that I need to hide away in the closet so it can cry itself to sleep.

To Answer Your Questions

You sweet readers have asked a couple of questions in your comments and I want to answer them. One thing you wanted to know is how I got through the third grade in just two weeks.

My Third Grade Story

I went to Bivins Grade School at Masterson, Texas. The only thing smaller than Masterson, TX was Bivins Grade School. On average there were about 24 students K-6th grade. My class had three students, including me.

I was an A+ student without trying and my classmates had to work hard to earn their letter grades that were not as high as mine. I'm not meaning to sound proud, after all, we're talking first and second grade. Not much of a track record to brag about.

The second and third grades occupied the same classroom and were taught simultaneously by one teacher. Mrs. Doughty.

I never remember having a problem with Mrs. Doughty and I didn't know that she had any problems with me. But undoubtedly she did. I whizzed through second grade and had a good time doing it. It was the good time I had that prompted Mrs. Doughty to ask my parents if she could advance me after only two weeks in the third grade.

That teacher told my parents that I didn't apply myself. Humm. I didn't need to. I was bored out of tiny little gourd. And in my boredom I became a distraction to the other students. I cleaned out my desk, played in the sand box, and talked (imagine that) when the other students needed to work and study. I finished my work quickly and had too much free time on my hands. I needed to be challenged.

I'm guessing that if I'd stayed in the third grade all year, Mrs. Doughty might have decided to take early retirement.

But I like to think that the real thing that scooted me on through the third grade so quickly was the providential hand of God. There are many people that I would have never know had I entered Jr. High and High School a year later. My husband of 27+ years is one of them.

My history and my life would be totally different if I had not skipped the third grade. I could play "what if" for days on the thought. But what a waste of time that would be. Instead, I'll offer a "thank you" to God for numbering my days and ordering my steps. How HUGE is my God!

Now you tell me...
How has God numbered your days and ordered your steps to change YOUR life and YOUR history? How huge is your God?

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Your second question is, Why do I travel about the country and call so many places "home?"

Living Like Gypsies

It's my husband's job. Rick is a catastrophic insurance adjuster. In the industry he's know as a CAT adjuster. (Sounds like a chiropractor for furry pets, huh?) It works like this--

Insurance companies employ a small number of staff adjusters. They live and work in one place handling those day to day claims like grease fires, toilet overflows, vandalism, thefts, etc.

But when a disaster strikes and too many claims come pouring in for the staff adjusters to handle, your insurance company calls up a third-party company whose business it is to supply temporary adjusters (aka CAT adjusters) to help you get your money in a timely manner.

CAT adjusters don't get paid when there are no CATS. We depend on hail storms, ice storms, hurricanes, wild fires, mud slides, floods,... You get the picture. Cat adjusters usually live in RVs or extended stay motels. We all have places we call home, but the more time we spend there, the harder it is to pay the bills.

It's a different life for sure. It has it ups and downs, its positives and negatives. Why do we do it? I don't know for sure, but I think it has something to do with desires to live by faith, help people who are facing trials, and, well, EAT.

It's your turn.

Why do you do live where you live and do what you do?