After 6 weeks off from blogging, a little story of my morning commute
When I drove in this morning from Beaverton (which is a lot like Bosnia except for the government, economy, culture, architecture and geography), a van full of commandoes shot out the tires on my truck. I swerved and narrowly missed a group of penniless orphans crossing the road. Just then a grenade hit near the passenger door and the whole cab burst into flames. I smashed the driver door window with one strong blow from the handle of my TEC-9 semi-automatic and dove from the flames. Guns blazed as I dodged the cross fire to plant myself between the evil gunmen and the terrified orphans. My head was bleeding from crashing my truck. My clothes were ragged and burned. I had taken two bullets in the arm and one in the leg. I was barely able to remain upright and struggled to draw enough breath to allow me to stand and fight. But fight on I did..... This morning I fought to protect our freedom and our way of life and our penniless orphans. Seeing my inner strength that embodied a