Three colors. Thirteen stripes. Fifty stars. Though its outward appearance may be a humble collection of cloth stitched together, the American flag is a symbol of life, liberty, and justice for all. This flag has been waved proudly and it has also been burned with hatred. Throughout America’s history, this flag has literally made its way to the moon and back. It has marched down city streets and flies high above our nation’s capital. On Memorial Day, however, we remember this flag in a different manner.
When folded into a triangle and presented to a mother, father, husband, wife, son, or daughter at a funeral, this flag represents a life lost. A life lived to the fullest, but cut too short. Think about it. There are hundreds of thousands of men and women who served their country and never made it home. They had hopes and dreams for their future. Perhaps they wanted to marry their childhood sweetheart, raise a family, or buy a house. But one decision cost it all. They decided to put their life on the line to help ensure our safety and freedom in America. While defending our lives, they lost their own.
Several weeks ago, I was
huddled under the awning on our deck in the Great Smoky Mountains. The rain was falling rapidly from the clouds,
the thunder echoed through the mountains, and the lightening flashed brightly
in the evening sky. Directly across from
our deck, there is a breathtakingly beautiful mountain stream. Cascading down into the stream is a gorgeous
waterfall. Even in the midst of a fierce
and somewhat frightening mountain thunderstorm, the beauty surrounding the area
remains truly indescribable.
In Christ's Love,