Category Archives: Poetry

Spent Shell – A tribute to Jack Wayne Murphy

(This tearful repost from December 31, 2009 first appeared elsewhere.)

Flower petals fluttered in the breeze on a brisk day in May. The time since has not dulled the memory of those moments. Taps rang out from a bugle in the hand of a tall Marine on a nearby hill. The melancholy notes uttered volumes as we laid to rest the body of Jack Wayne Murphy, my friend and brother in the Lord. An aged veteran recited dear words that added to the message of the bugler. A twenty-one gun salute wrote a holy ellipsis at the end of the book of a precious life.

While some may not immediately recognize the term ellipsis, we all know what one is. It’s the little dots that say there is more than what is seen on the page… On that pristine day, seven Marine rifles fired as one to mark the first dot. Again the solemn barrels shouted in unison, and finally a third and final shot pierced the sky. Twenty one spent shell casings lay fallen upon the flagstone and in the grass near the walk.

Someone thought to gather up the spent shells. I think one was placed into the diligently folded American flag that was carefully presented to the grieving widow. Others were given to the teary-eyed children and relatives. As the minister, one was bestowed upon me.

I weep as I hold the spent shell. That casing is a lot like the body that we deposited into the earth that day; it once held a bullet that was released into the sky. Likewise the buried body once held a man—a husband, a dad, a Marine, a Christian brother. The body once held a soul that has now been released into Heaven.

When I hold that spent shell, I remember how the body of Jack Murphy was ravaged by disease in the process of releasing his soul to God. Just as the expending of a bullet is not its end, so also death is not the end of a man. The spent shell is not the bullet. It is only a remainder, and a reminder, of where the bullet once was…

I wrote a novel that was dedicated to my departed friend. My dedication said,

For God’s finest Marine, Jack Murphy Sr, a precious soul who showed us all how to live for Jesus Christ in the midst of the worst adversities that this sin-cursed world can deal out to a mortal body. In a vision, yours was the very first heavenly face I ever saw. It was the single most beautiful sight I ever beheld. See you soon, friend. Semper Fi!

Jim Kilgore: A Hero Goes Home + The Long Wait (by Mike Carlen)

“Here I sit in a hospital room listening to beeps, moans, the hissing of oxygen with a slight gurgle of moisture, and the sound of shallow breathing that you can’t help but be unnerved by. Moaning and yelling from a distant room filters into our consciousness occasionally, disturbing our focus on our loved one. The wait continues. Its 2:13am and another all-nighter awaits… unless that angel named death comes knocking.

“We have been here for 7 days now. Hanging out in waiting rooms, having friends you haven’t seen in quite sometime drop by who wish to express their wishes of love and support and leave snacks, food and gift cards. And the family…gathered together with those you love the most, knowing if nothing is said, its ok.

“Meeting those unknown faces in the ICU waiting room that are waiting and suffering in spirit just as we are, wishing for better days. Their loved ones flat on their back, completely helpless. Unmovable. No, we don’t know all of their names, but we have become comrades in spirit, encouraging each other and wishing for a clean bill of health so we could escape this unlikeliest of hangouts. It’s cold here. Chairs are miserably uncomfortable. It makes me wonder why they make the chairs so miserable. Do they think if they were plush, we wouldn’t want to leave? Like that favorite restaurant that is so pleasing to the palette of the eye, let alone the stomach, you just don’t want to leave this fine establishment because its so pleasant? No, in a heartbeat we would leave. If only we could take our loved one with us.

Read more of this powerful tribute to James Kilgore Sr, and soul-searching reflection on what really matters, via Mike Carlen’s Blog – The Long Wait.

FIRST UPDATE, Wednesday, February 5, 2014:

It is with profound sadness and heavy hearts that we report the passing of our beloved Reverend James L. Kilgore. Brother Kilgore went home to be with the Lord early this morning (February 5). Please be in prayer for the Kilgore family during this difficult time.

James Kilgore, Sr 1926-2014

Brother Kilgore’s son, Pastor Jim Kilgore, wrote the following:

These are the hardest words to write… Our Dad passed away at. 2:25 this morning. We felt it was inevitable following his fall on Sunday, February 2, but hope sees beyond the inevitable and refuses to hear the words, irreversible. We are Kilgores, and miracles are part of our DNA. Over the past few days, our family poured out our love on him with words, songs , the Word, prayer, touch…and finally, we were able to release him! This morning Dad rests in the presence of Jehovah. You, our friends and his, have been magnificent! We love you!

—Jan, Jean, Jim and family.

SECOND UPDATE, Wednesday, February 5, 2014:

Regarding the passing of Reverend James L. Kilgore, beloved long-time pastor, former Texas District Superintendent and former Assistant General Superintendent of the United Pentecostal Church International: Brother Kilgore went home to be with the Lord early this morning, February 5.

Funeral arrangements are as follows:

Family visitation – Friday, February 7 from 5-6:00 p.m.
Public visitation – Friday from 6-8 p.m.
Visitation – Saturday, February 8 from 9-10 a.m.
Funeral – Saturday at 10:00 a.m., with private burial service to follow

The visitation and funeral will be held at Life Church, 9900 Almeda Genoa Rd, Houston, TX 77075. The phone number there is 713-910-1911.

In lieu of flowers, the family has asked donations be sent to Life Church and designated to Ima’s Home for Children.

Please be in prayer for the Kilgore family during this difficult time.

Mt. Technology

Back then, technology was a mountain,
     and the young boy thought he could climb it.
And he wanted to.

Back then, his brain was sharp,
     and his brainstorms awesome.
And he had ideas.

Back then, the Internet was unheard of,
     and games beckoned to be created.
And longing peaked.

Then forces beyond his control arose
     and turned his brave new world upside down.
And still he tried.

Then the “how” kept changing, and growing ever harder,
     and his ideas were not enough.
And still he tried.

So now, his brain is dull,
     and his brainstorms are played out.
And he’s out of steam.

So now, his ideas are gone,
     and his hopes are faded and dark.
And he’s giving up.

So now, technology is a mountain,
     but the old man knows he cannot climb it.
And he doesn’t want to.

He sits with a phone that’s a computer,
     and a camera, and a DVR, and a PDA.
And he tries to make a call.

The microwaves have cooked his brain,
     and he cannot work the thing.
And still he tries.

A young boy tries to help him, saying,
     “Here, let me show you.”
But the cancer is too far spread.

The young boy sees technology as a mountain,
     and he knows he can climb it.
And he wants to.

One can tell his brain is sharp,
     and his brainstorms awesome.
And he has ideas.

—Doug Joseph
January 17, 2011