It’s Memorial Day and today I would like to have the ability to go back in time just once. Since my grandfather served in WWII, he was a patriot and he and grandmother always commemorated “Decoration Day.” Grandpa had been injured in the line of duty he had seen others die. Everyone had sacrificed for the war effort and rejoiced at its end.
On Memorial Day the morning was always devoted to remembrance. We attended parades and listened to speeches. We bought poppies from veterans and visited family. We listened with interest to old war stories, even if we had heard them so often we could tell them ourselves.
In afternoon we gathered on the farm for a huge picnic. Memorial Day was the official beginning of summer, school was days from dismissing for the summer, and the first cutting of hay was often ready to bail. So we burned off our picnic calories putting up hay all afternoon. In the evening it was fishing, chasing fireflies, corn-on-the-cob, and watermelon. I would like re-live just one of those days with my children, but life doesn’t work like that.
We just returned from a month in Mexico. It was a good experience. We all observed so many things. The people were beautiful. The climate was enviable. The hospitality was sweet. I’m glad we went. But when we crossed back into the United States of America and saw Old Glory snapping in the breeze over the welcome center just north of the Rio Grande, I heart was stirred with love and gratitude that I was born in the U. S. A.
Now more than ever it is clear to me that God has blessed America. And I pray, now more than ever, that God will withhold the judgment we deserved and instead send a latter rain of revival and reformation to our land before it is too late.
May 29, 2006