I'm not for sure what I want to write about today. Desiderata left a comment on my Friday, July 8th post, and that comment and his post has me thinking a lot about war this morning. It makes me heavy on the inside. My heart is burdened. Too often we, as Americans, gloss over the horrible reality that is war. No one I know has directly experienced war. I've met a few people who know someone who's been in a war. It doesn't suffice. I've seen a few films about wars and battles in wars. "Saving Private Ryan" and "We Were Sodiers" were excellent films that brought the emotion of war into my living room, but I don't think they sufficed either. I would venture to guess that war is like so many other things in life in that you have to experience it to understand it. Much like accepting Christ into your life. The feelings you get from that surrender can not be explained. They can not be taught. They must be experienced. I can not convey to someone the joys of the Lord, just like someone can not convey to me the horrors of war.
In closing, let's remember to pray for those who experience war, and lets continue to reflect Christ so that many others may experience His fullness.
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3 comments:
My Grandpa was in the navy during WW2. He doesn't like to talk about it, but he does have some stories he'll share. One of our "family friends" in WB served as a medic on the front lines in Vietnam, and just knowing the difference between him "normally" and him when someone/thing gets him thinking about the war....I'm very thankful that I've never had to experience war like that.
I remember someone telling me once, right before I made the decission to give my life to Christ, that they could not explain to anyone what that surrender feels like. I didn't believe it when I heard it, but a couple (or few?) hours later... I did.
Some things, we just don't have words to describe. And sometimes I think that lack of words is a gift in itself.
One of my best friends in college was a Marine Reservist. He was packed up at the beginning of March 2003 and sent to camp, and then off to Kuwait the same month. He got to Kuwait about two days before the "Shock and Awe" campaign and the next morning with his 10s of thousands of fellow Marines he Marched into Iraq (or shall I say rode).
The point of my story is, that we were still here in Michigan, doing the things that we do (work, school, church... even entertainment)and we prayed for his safety every day. But when he returned, it was completely different. In a sentence we had moved on - free to explore our lives - and he had moved backwards - startled by loud noises. That's what makes war so hard on them. They experience things they can hardly imagine and when they come home everyone around them has moved on, grown up, and matured, and not only have they not had the same experiences as their friends, they now have to worry about their personal safety. They have to deal with shock, fear, nightmeres, etc. And all the people they should be able to share it with are just... in a different place.
So yes, pray for our troops that fight our physical battles, but it's not enough to pray for their physical safety. Pray also for the thousands upon thousands of them who return and are attempting to re-assimilate into our culture. Because it's so much harder than it appears.
Hi Brudder Luke:
I salute everything you wrote in this Post. Thanks for the reminder of war and its horrors.
I've seen We Were Soldiers, and also The Rumour of War; after such viewing, the hear is always heavy. Yes, we need to search for higher bread in life.
Thanks also for visiting my humble home. On fineday I hope I can offer thee Teh Tarik plus Halia.
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