Holding on to Sand - From the Interactive Journal of James Rapp
May 24, 2011 James Rapp
“Funny, how after all your life you do your best to get the most out of your time, and yet here, I want it to run fast through my fingers, like trying to hold on to sand.”
The night sky is clear and every glorious star is visible. But, James Rapp is not sitting on his front porch in the crisp evening air. And, the air quality is not as pure as it is in Indiana or even the space above the distant mountains. Military personnel are burning the base’s crap with diesel fuel and the air hangs heavy with black soot, smoke and burning waste. At 5:30pm on August 31, 2012 it is 106 degrees in his tent with the A/C open wide and the fan at full speed. James is far from home, embedded with the Marine’s in Afghanistan. It is hot as hell and nasty flies circle around his sweaty skin. The showers have been shut off and he has only a few bottles of water and packages of baby wipes sent from home to clean the sand and dust from his body.
James Rapp’s story is similar to other men and women who have been through divorce. By the time it was finalized, he was financially broken. He retired from the Police Department and took a position as an International Police Advisor, to provide training and mentoring for the developing Afghan National Police.
His friends asked two things of him—that he stay safe and keep them Facebook-posted on his experiences there. This book is a compilation of James’ posts. His words express his joy and frustration, anger and trust in the Lord God, and his profound love for children.
James is a real person, with great strength, vulnerabilities, deep love, and thorny edges. Sometimes he is positive, sometimes discouraged, often humorous and even irreverent, and sometimes he is angry with God. But, God’s grace and your love and willingness to help him tether his heart to home, have seen him through it all. Soon, he will no longer need to focus on grains of sand to take his mind off his children. With God’s help, James will be on his way home. Thank you and may God richly bless every one of you.
To the delicate ear, skip over the words that offend you. I have chosen to leave in the “crusty” language of fellow jarheads, leathernecks and devil dogs (fellow Marines - Semper Fi), because their honest-speak lets James know they have been there and they understand what he was going through. Jump to a new thread along the left and live James’ life as friends help to keep his spirits alive in Afghanistan.
1113243705
“Funny, how after all your life you do your best to get the most out of your time, and yet here, I want it to run fast through my fingers, like trying to hold on to sand.”
The night sky is clear and every glorious star is visible. But, James Rapp is not sitting on his front porch in the crisp evening air. And, the air quality is not as pure as it is in Indiana or even the space above the distant mountains. Military personnel are burning the base’s crap with diesel fuel and the air hangs heavy with black soot, smoke and burning waste. At 5:30pm on August 31, 2012 it is 106 degrees in his tent with the A/C open wide and the fan at full speed. James is far from home, embedded with the Marine’s in Afghanistan. It is hot as hell and nasty flies circle around his sweaty skin. The showers have been shut off and he has only a few bottles of water and packages of baby wipes sent from home to clean the sand and dust from his body.
James Rapp’s story is similar to other men and women who have been through divorce. By the time it was finalized, he was financially broken. He retired from the Police Department and took a position as an International Police Advisor, to provide training and mentoring for the developing Afghan National Police.
His friends asked two things of him—that he stay safe and keep them Facebook-posted on his experiences there. This book is a compilation of James’ posts. His words express his joy and frustration, anger and trust in the Lord God, and his profound love for children.
James is a real person, with great strength, vulnerabilities, deep love, and thorny edges. Sometimes he is positive, sometimes discouraged, often humorous and even irreverent, and sometimes he is angry with God. But, God’s grace and your love and willingness to help him tether his heart to home, have seen him through it all. Soon, he will no longer need to focus on grains of sand to take his mind off his children. With God’s help, James will be on his way home. Thank you and may God richly bless every one of you.
To the delicate ear, skip over the words that offend you. I have chosen to leave in the “crusty” language of fellow jarheads, leathernecks and devil dogs (fellow Marines - Semper Fi), because their honest-speak lets James know they have been there and they understand what he was going through. Jump to a new thread along the left and live James’ life as friends help to keep his spirits alive in Afghanistan.
Holding on to Sand - From the Interactive Journal of James Rapp
May 24, 2011 James Rapp
“Funny, how after all your life you do your best to get the most out of your time, and yet here, I want it to run fast through my fingers, like trying to hold on to sand.”
The night sky is clear and every glorious star is visible. But, James Rapp is not sitting on his front porch in the crisp evening air. And, the air quality is not as pure as it is in Indiana or even the space above the distant mountains. Military personnel are burning the base’s crap with diesel fuel and the air hangs heavy with black soot, smoke and burning waste. At 5:30pm on August 31, 2012 it is 106 degrees in his tent with the A/C open wide and the fan at full speed. James is far from home, embedded with the Marine’s in Afghanistan. It is hot as hell and nasty flies circle around his sweaty skin. The showers have been shut off and he has only a few bottles of water and packages of baby wipes sent from home to clean the sand and dust from his body.
James Rapp’s story is similar to other men and women who have been through divorce. By the time it was finalized, he was financially broken. He retired from the Police Department and took a position as an International Police Advisor, to provide training and mentoring for the developing Afghan National Police.
His friends asked two things of him—that he stay safe and keep them Facebook-posted on his experiences there. This book is a compilation of James’ posts. His words express his joy and frustration, anger and trust in the Lord God, and his profound love for children.
James is a real person, with great strength, vulnerabilities, deep love, and thorny edges. Sometimes he is positive, sometimes discouraged, often humorous and even irreverent, and sometimes he is angry with God. But, God’s grace and your love and willingness to help him tether his heart to home, have seen him through it all. Soon, he will no longer need to focus on grains of sand to take his mind off his children. With God’s help, James will be on his way home. Thank you and may God richly bless every one of you.
To the delicate ear, skip over the words that offend you. I have chosen to leave in the “crusty” language of fellow jarheads, leathernecks and devil dogs (fellow Marines - Semper Fi), because their honest-speak lets James know they have been there and they understand what he was going through. Jump to a new thread along the left and live James’ life as friends help to keep his spirits alive in Afghanistan.
“Funny, how after all your life you do your best to get the most out of your time, and yet here, I want it to run fast through my fingers, like trying to hold on to sand.”
The night sky is clear and every glorious star is visible. But, James Rapp is not sitting on his front porch in the crisp evening air. And, the air quality is not as pure as it is in Indiana or even the space above the distant mountains. Military personnel are burning the base’s crap with diesel fuel and the air hangs heavy with black soot, smoke and burning waste. At 5:30pm on August 31, 2012 it is 106 degrees in his tent with the A/C open wide and the fan at full speed. James is far from home, embedded with the Marine’s in Afghanistan. It is hot as hell and nasty flies circle around his sweaty skin. The showers have been shut off and he has only a few bottles of water and packages of baby wipes sent from home to clean the sand and dust from his body.
James Rapp’s story is similar to other men and women who have been through divorce. By the time it was finalized, he was financially broken. He retired from the Police Department and took a position as an International Police Advisor, to provide training and mentoring for the developing Afghan National Police.
His friends asked two things of him—that he stay safe and keep them Facebook-posted on his experiences there. This book is a compilation of James’ posts. His words express his joy and frustration, anger and trust in the Lord God, and his profound love for children.
James is a real person, with great strength, vulnerabilities, deep love, and thorny edges. Sometimes he is positive, sometimes discouraged, often humorous and even irreverent, and sometimes he is angry with God. But, God’s grace and your love and willingness to help him tether his heart to home, have seen him through it all. Soon, he will no longer need to focus on grains of sand to take his mind off his children. With God’s help, James will be on his way home. Thank you and may God richly bless every one of you.
To the delicate ear, skip over the words that offend you. I have chosen to leave in the “crusty” language of fellow jarheads, leathernecks and devil dogs (fellow Marines - Semper Fi), because their honest-speak lets James know they have been there and they understand what he was going through. Jump to a new thread along the left and live James’ life as friends help to keep his spirits alive in Afghanistan.
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940015565836 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Daniel's House Publishing |
| Publication date: | 10/08/2012 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 507 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
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