May 26, 2013- Still thankful. Last weekend I witnessed a group of mostly soldiers who walked 32 miles in honor of a friend and brother who gave his life for them and me in this ongoing war. It’s a big deal. I watched them closely: their calves looked like angular blocks of wood as they marched uphill, their gray shirts darkened with sweat and their socks bloodied inside their boots. They smiled; they marched; they remembered. They’re part of a brotherhood that stirs choking emotion, a bond that’s mystery and miracle, fiercely loyal to what they represent. What they know. They know that the enemy is very real, and if they don’t do what they do, freedom will become legend. They do it for us. The metaphor cannot be ignored: Jesus Christ turned and pointed directly at their kind to describe the greatest love in existence, the kind of love He has for the world, that gives everything to rescue even one—the kind He expects from me. I watched those soldiers and burned with embarrassment at my lack of conviction; but rather than pay tribute to my yawning faith, I prefer to thank those soldiers for renewing my perspective. I want to be as devoted to God as American soldiers are to Freedom. I want to be as willing as Thad is to keep marching even if everyone else falls away; willing like Wendy to leave everything I love to give the world what I have; unstoppable like Tyler who walked the final miles barefoot on injured feet. A prayer was born in me as I watched those heroes live what they believe. I hope to God that by the time my girls are old enough to reconcile what I say with what I do, they find me with dirt on my face, sacrificing myself, carrying the injured, loving indiscriminately the way my God loves me, and hell-bent on spreading truth and freedom in Christ to everyone waiting to be rescued by Him. Those soldiers inspired me to reach into my pocket for my “yes” card and sling it. Here I am, Lord! Send me.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 18:12:33 +0000
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