In memoriam and the battles we face every day

It's Veteran's Day.  And, after a tear-jerking, moving speech at the memorial service, I was left wondering what noble deed I am doing/might do for my country.  What is my noble, my courageous service?  First, I must humbly thank those brave men and women who have served and given all.  I think of the wives whose best years faded while their husbands spent lonely, cold and cruel nights in foreign parts, children who grew up with a picture of Father but no personal memories, and men who live still haunted by memories that can't be erased and, much like losing a loved one, may come crashing over them unexpected, unprovoked, leaving them once again struggling to live with the present tasks and face-paced culture.

  But, what can I do for this great country compared to these, and then it came softly, unexpected with all the weight and beauty of solid truth.  With a toddling one-year-old finally crashed-out asleep in his stroller, girls dressed in AHG uniforms passing out poppies and a son in Trail Life shirt and hat offering small flags while the anthems of our great service branches played in the background, I saw my sacrifice.  Not only my sacrifice but the sacrifice of many other women there present and who have been and will be coming after me.  Raising up godly men and women with integrity, respect and hearts of service: that is my gift to a nation and my daily sacrifice.

     As a mom, we give day in, day out, every heartbeat and often the wee hours of precious sleep, the hopeful projects and half-forgotten hobbies, our lives our laid down.  Not 6 feet under, not on far away battlefields but right here, right now, until death, on the great battlefield of the home.  I've experienced first hand lately and had my eyes open wide to the truth that my home is a very real battlefield and the minds and hearts of my children are territories worth keeping, preserving and dying for.  They are vulnerable, weak and constantly under attack by the world around them, the enemy and their own self-wills, and it is my job, my duty, my high-calling to stand guard, alert, ready to fight for them and to preserve that great freedom for which we have been set free by the One who has paid in blood, sweat and body.

       So, my friends, great Christian women of America, her future is resting upon you, upon your vigilance, upon your wisdom and gentle instruction, upon your sleepless nights, tear-stained pillow and worn-out knees.  My prayers are with you as I fight, your comrade, your ally, your fellow countryman of that Great Country we have not yet seen. along your side.

It all came rushing back: If ever you lost a loved one

This is my letter to our Pastor Bernie and Gayle Jernigan.  Gayle's mother just triumphed over a long battle with Alzheimers last night - a battle that looked like anything but triumph -  but has ended with her entry into the arms of Jesus.

Today, a young man spoke of recently losing his mother to heart disease.  He articulated the whys, heartache and struggle of walking the path with one dying, the heart breaking in those last few weeks/days/moments.  I relived my dad's last week on earth and all the pain and questions that went along with that and still hang lingering in the air.  The sorrow and emptiness also acutely felt over my dear brother, Jeremiah's death as the years slip away and we'll never know this side of heaven why he was killed - so young - and how the Kingdom of God is advancing through that devastation.

 I think of all the well meant condolences that sometimes hurt more than they helped.  People often try to cheer the grieving with the hope and joy of Heaven while we are yet cut to the quick with the very real pain of loss on Earth.  There certainly is that deep, abiding joy and hope and it is the underpinning of our every next footstep and fortitude but it does not supersede the pain of loss this side of glory -- at least not yet.  The grieving do not wish to be cheered midst the mechanical numbness intertwined by very poignant sorrow when all you can do is sit down and stare at nothing and no one, or hold close an object that was theirs and long and wonder or shake with grieving sobs.


     So, my prayer for you Bernie and Gayle is that you are held close by friends and family and even more keenly aware of the arms of Jesus surrounding you and His tears mingling with those flowing down your cheeks as He walks you through these sorrows.  CS Lewis said: "The joy then is part of the sorrow now," and all those memories that made you laugh will now always carry with them the cloak of sorrow.  You'll still laugh but not without a pang of grief intermingled.  May there be a quieting and gentling  in your sorrow flowing from the God of all comfort.  Don't be afraid of the heartache and tears but embrace the moments when you're overwhelmed by it; let it slow you down as long as it takes, whenever it strikes you.
   May the hand of God uphold you and His grace cover you till your feet find some firmness for another step.
With love, prayers and understanding,
Sarah