Last year, I came out of early retirement—perhaps better characterized as “premature retirement”—to accept part-time work as a hospice chaplain.
In my new role, I often hear three common reactions when I tell friends I work for hospice.
The reaction that always surprises me is, “Where is your hospital?”
I know you’re busy, so in this month’s column I ask for only a few minutes for you to consider two questions.
First question: Feel like taking a trip with me?
If so, I’m inviting you to join my wife and me March 8–15, 2020, as we return to Honduras.
“Why would I use my vacation dollars to go to a third-world country?” you ask.
Several times during my years in the Air National Guard, folks jokingly asked me how I became an officer without knowing how to play golf. Their questions finally challenged me to rectify my shortcoming with some lessons.
With only a few years before retirement, I was on my annual training in San Luis Obispo when I found an opportunity to play my first game with fellow chaplains.
Imagine taking a virtual plane ride today and meeting me in San Francisco for a 30-minute drive south to Moffett Federal Airfield, formerly known as Moffett Navy Air Station.
With my military ID we easily slide past the Smokey-Bear-hatted federal guards. A quarter mile in, we pull curbside and walk across the lawn to the Moffett Chapel, built in the style of the Spanish Colonial missions.
I’m comfortable here because this is where, in 1994, I took my first Air Force active-duty chaplain assignment.
