The K-9 Crop Duster
I am not a genius. I readily confess it. I know, some of you may want to argue the point, but please…let me be humble. Even those of us who fall a tad shy of genius status come across good ideas from time to time. Sometimes good ideas just happen and you have to roll with it. I just had one of those experiences and would like to share it with you.
Today one of the things I wanted to accomplish was treating our yard for bugs (fire ants, spiders, fleas, etc.) One of the trouble spots for fleas of course is our dog run. Its a fairly large space, and our two dogs now spend most of their time there. Of course, one of them is smarter than I am and keeps escaping. I will defeat him, but that is another blog. The fenced area is pictured below.
The white speck in the bottom right corner is the dog that is not smarter than me. As you can see there is, at the moment of the photo, only one dog in the fence. The other was mocking me from the rose-bush outside of the fence. So my task was to treat the fenced area for fleas. The powder I was using was found by my wife (who is a genius) and can be used directly on the animals as well. So, my first order of business was to dust the white fluff ball pictured above. I did this first because I needed time to think about the best way to effectively dust the entire space and not run out of powder.
As I entered the fence, Pappy (the smart dog) mockingly slipped into the fence in some unknown location (stealthily enough that I didn’t hear him) He appeared inside the fence at a safe distance so as not to be dusted easily. Now Todd (the less than smart dog) gets excited with the smallest amount of attention. So as I dumped powder on him and rubbed it in, he began to quiver with a frenzy of euphoria. As soon as I had patted him thoroughly, he fired off like a bullet. Pappy seized the moment as well, chasing Todd in circles. That is when the moment of genius came.
Todd was saturated with the powder and when he ran a cloud of the dust trailed him. He was dusting half of the area while he ran off the excitement of getting scratched by me (who he clearly sees as some sort of kingly figure). So I went with it. I called Todd back over and dumped some more powder all over him. When I had finished, I slapped him (with love) on the rear and he took off again. He was like a K-9 crop duster. After several times of doing this, there was no flea known to man that could have escaped the cloud of death descending from Todd’s back.
A moment of silence please in honor of the sheer brilliance.
(Before anyone complains, it only sounds like I don’t respect Todd. I treat him with kindness and gentleness that would make a certified and battle hardened member of PETA get all teary and sentimental.)
Aren’t you thankful that sincerely living the Christian life doesn’t require extraordinary brilliance or super human creativity. Its so simple. Love The Lord with all your heart, soul, mind and spirit, and love your neighbor as yourself. As a general rule, people tend to complicate things. I do. Give me a good ministry idea and my reaction is to program the daylights out of it. Before long its simple beauty has been robbed and replaced by a set of miserable tasks.
The church is this wonderful and unique blend of organization…and organism. We organize ourselves in order to accomplish things. We schedule meetings for various reasons, including for worship, missions, and prayer. Not all organization is bad of course, God has gifted us with organizational minds. We are made in His image, and He is a God of order not chaos. But the church is also a wonderfully simple organism. It is not the First Baptist Church Inc., it is the PEOPLE who cooperate in ministry as First Baptist Church.
I want to celebrate the simplicity of faith, and tend this wonderful living church so that it can grow and flourish without the complicated burden of our rules and structures to restrict it.
My New Theme Song
How Deep the Father’s Love for Us
Words and Music by Stuart Townend
How deep the Father’s love for us,
How vast beyond all measure,
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss;
The Father turns His face away,
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory.
Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders;
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers.
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished;
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished.
I will not boast in anything,
No gifts, no power, no wisdom;
But I will boast in Jesus Christ,
His death and resurrection.
Why should I gain from His reward?
I can not give an answer.
But this I know with all my heart;
His wounds have paid my ransom.
Sesquicentennial Clarity
Have you ever had one of those moments of clarity in which everything gets put into perspective? You know the ones when all the busyness, all the work, all the fuss…gets boiled down to one image? I had one of those just a little earlier today.
Our church is celebrating its 150th anniversary this weekend. We are celebrating in grand fashion too. So much work has gone into this weekend’s activities. In 3 hours the people will begin to arrive. The gymnasium is full of tables with fine settings, beautiful centerpieces, and elaborate decorations. Two rooms nearby have been cleared and then filled with memorabilia, forming a museum of sorts. Guests will be able to walk through this beautiful arrangement of artifacts and documents that remind us of our long heritage. Guests will then be seated in the gym, and enjoy a wonderful banquet while they watch a movie that has been filmed to document our legacy, and proclaim our history as well as our hope for the future. Tomorrow we will worship together in grand form, singing among other things a special anthem commissioned just for this occasion. We’ll all gather for a photograph outside, taken from high atop our beautiful Atrium, a symbol of achievement and growth. And then we will gather for another wonderful meal. It will be a meaningful and important event. Many men and women have served Christ faithfully as members of FBC for all of these 150 years.
But this morning as I was at the church; the finishing touches were busily being added, I was hanging a banner welcoming people to the celebration, and my attention was directed to someone who was there for a very different reason. A gentleman had stopped by who needed help. He was a young father of three. A man from Thomson, who had lost his home, but managed to keep his job. They are staying at the inexpensive motel across the street from the church. They have no home, and very little money for food. He had received assistance in the form of a few nights at the motel, but had just a short while before they would be turned out.
I am thankful that through the benevolence ministry of the church I was able to extend their stay for two nights. I prayed with him, and assured this worried young man, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, that we would not let his family go hungry or be cast out on the street. I am so thankful for the funds available to me as a minister, which enable me to make such promises. These are funds which come from the generous giving of the people who are First Baptist Church in Thomson.
As he walked back towards the motel, I resumed hanging the banner that welcomed people to our anniversary celebration. That’s when the clarity came. Who was I welcoming? The mayor might be there. Previous pastors with Ph.Ds will come. Many distinguished men and women are expected. But would this broken homeless family feel welcome in our banquet hall?
Months ago a homeless family came through Thomson, and I was so proud of the way the people of our church and community loved and cared for them. They chose to move on, but not before they were offered all they needed to have a fresh start and a family of faith. I have no doubt that the church will respond in similar fashion to this new family whose need has now been recognized.
150 years later, FBC Thomson is here Loving God, Loving People, and Serving the World Together. And the need is there for us to be about that work now more than ever. The broken and hurting are literally at our doorsteps. We have a choice to make. Do we turn inward and decorate our banquet halls with more and more fancy celebrations intended for a select few? Do we congratulate ourselves on our longevity, risking little and safely inching along? Or do we honor the call of the Gospel, and the labor of those who have gone before us to establish a church that would be an irresistable influence for the Kingdom of God.
May we boldly move forward now; refusing to settle for safety, refusing to ignore the needs of the poor, and the pain of the people who live in the shadow of our buildings. May we not now be satisfied to simply go to church and talk about faith. May we be as determined as those visionaries 150 years ago to LIVE by faith…and BE the church that will carry out the mission of Christ.
cereal self-centeredness
This morning as my son and I were eating breakfast, I overheard him talking to his Cheerios. It was early, around 6, and I was sipping coffee and reading over my Sunday School lesson. He was down to the last of the bowl. He said, “OK you two, Ive missed you this whole time…but I’ve got you now. You can’t hide anymore.” Curious, I looked over and saw that he was speaking to the last two Cheerios left in his bowl. Indeed, they did appear to be cowering across the little sea of milk…undoubtedly hoping to be overlooked. However I must sadly report that they were not overlooked. They met a quick end, downed in one slurp.
Later this morning I was reminded of the following excerpt from “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho.
“The Alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus. The Alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who daily knelt beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus. But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.
He said that when Narcissus died, the Goddesses of the Forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.
“Why do you weep?” the Goddesses asked.
“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.
“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”
“But…. Was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.
“Who better than you to know that?” the Goddesses said in wonder, “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!!”
The lake was silent for some time.
Finally it said:
“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”
“What a lovely story,” the alchemist thought.”
Webster defines Narcissism as “Excessive preoccupation with self …”
What do these two stories have in common? Am I suggesting Dave was narcissistic in thinking the bowl full of Cheerios were all worried about him? No, I am not suggesting that. Any worry on the part of the Cheerios concerning Dave turned out to be warranted indeed.
Like Cheerios navigating a milky bowl to stay away from a hungry five year old…you and I have issues in our lives that we work tirelessly to avoid. It may be a person that you stay as far away from as possible. It may be a debt that you try not to think about. It may be a fear or memory that is too painful to dwell on. It may be the fact that there is a distance between you and your spouse or children that grows a little everyday it goes unaddressed.
In many cases, these issues are such, well…issues for one primary reason. Like cereal narcissists, we have made them all about us. We can’t get over how afraid we are, or how unequipped we are, or how regretful we are, or how inadequate we are to do anything about them. Whatever they are. When in reality, the issues we have might not seem so daunting if we realized that they are not all about us. Not really, they don’t have to be.
We can make them all about God. All about how He embodies Bravery, all about how God lacks nothing necessary to meet our needs, all about how His loves chases away even the worst regrets with divine forgiveness, all about how adequacy doesn’t even touch how ready God is to be there for us.
In light of this, what is an appropriate response from God’s people to difficult issues? Don’t avoid them. With prayer and confidence, move forward in wisdom. And remember that your problems don’t have to be all about you. Make them all about God, and let the depth of your need reveal the depth of His Grace.
What color should your dot be?
I was looking for something in one of my older blogs and came across this one. It needed a little tweaking, but I felt led to post it again. Hope some of you new to the blog enjoy!
I was reading an article the other day that started me thinking. The article was by a gentleman who was a childcare worker at his church. He casually mentioned how they use colored dot stickers on the children to remind the leaders of certain concerns. I thought it was a pretty good idea. For example, Jimmy wears a red dot to remind the leaders that he is allergic to peanuts. Sue wears a green dot to remind the adults that if she gets fussy, her sippy cup usually calms her down. Danny wears a purple sticker to indicate that he has a tendancy to not share well, so keep an eye on him. Amy wears a yellow sticker to remind the adults that she has been recently adopted, and that her birth mother has made recent attempts to make unauthorized contact with her.
As adults, we don’t usually go around wearing stickers to indicate our hidden issues. I can only imagine that little Amy is so innocent, and loves everyone involved. But drama circles her little life so much that she has to wear a yellow dot at church. Some of us didn’t ask for the drama that characterizes our lives, but never the less it is there. It might be easier to care for each other if we did adopt the colored dot system. I think that I would probably be covered with dots to the degree that it would be difficult to walk. But we don’t wear dots to indicate issues that require sensitivity. We are left with the responsibility to actually get to know one another. The guy who sits behind me in church, or on the bus may have real needs that I could help with. But alas, he has no sticker to make me aware of them. In order to find out I would actually have to have a real conversation. We might be ashamed to know that our neighbors have been struggling with an issue for years, and we could have helped! Why didn’t they wear their dots! Why didn’t we just knock on the door and invite them over for coffee? Some of us live in the same house with people who have needs we are unaware of. Unfortunately, they aren’t going to wear a colored dot to clue us in…we’re going to have to care enough to ask.
the legend of the one armed driver…a legend no more, but still legendary
I posted the following blog back in the Spring and it got lots of attention. Apparently lots of people can relate to the issue of giving and recieving advice and instruction. However something happend last week that I never expected. The identity of the mysterious One Armed Driver has been revealed. I recieved the following email from a good freind:
“This is a picture of my great-grandfather, Olan Slaton. He lived all his life in Calhoun Falls, SC. He ran a store on the main highway as you passed through. He lost his arm when a logging truck passed too close while he was hanging it out the window.
The legend is true.
Jay”
My parents grew up near Calhoun Falls, so it has to be the same guy. Crazy Stuff. Thanks for sharing Jay!
____________________________________________________________
When I was a little kid I liked to stick my arm out of the car window while we drove. Back seat…before the days of car seat laws and child locks on power windows. I could fit one arm out…and I was a one armed Superman flying through the clouds.
My mom was not a fan of this activity. I suppose she felt it was unsafe and after simply asking me to stop apparently didn’t work she resorted to scare tactics. I still remember sitting in the back seat mortified at the story. There was apparently a man who, while riding with his arm hanging out the window, came a little to close to oncoming traffic. What your hoping didn’t happen…did. Guess who could buy the Michael Jackson glove kit and have everything he needed. Yikes.
It worked until I was a teenager when what brains I had developed mysteriously receeded and I was once again unbreakable in my own head. (Which we have already established was empty.)
I still hug the white line when I hang my arm out the rolled down window.
This morning I was driving my son to preschool and myself to work…windows down…arm casually hanging out of the window. My 5 year old son suddenly shrieked from the back seat, “Get your arm in this car!”
“What?!”, I asked. ( He recently spent some time at Grandma’s.)
“Grandma told me this story and it freaks me out.” he says. “There was this man who was riding down the road sticking his arm out the window, and a car came by and got too close and it chopped his arm off.”
Another generation horrified into compliance.
“ Wow” I said, pretending I hadn’t heard the story. “What happened to the guy?” I asked, hoping maybe my mom had added a happy ending.
“All he had left was a spot for a big band-aid.”
Man. The legend of the One Armed Driver continues. Needless to say there will be no arms sticking out car windows in this family’s vehicles for another generation. Good work mom.
Do you ever have that problem? My mom just couldn’t get us to do what she wanted us to do in that instance. So she had to take action. Do you ever just get aggravated that people won’t do what you want. I’m smiling as I write this and you may be smiling as you read it because there are two sides here.
One is the side that we all experience some days. You know, the days when you wake up and immediately get aggravated because nobody is doing what you want them to do and you are convinced that if everyone would just do things your way…everything would work much better. On those days its best to either stay in bed (because you’ll never get everyone to comply), or pray that God would help you have a better attitude Besides, His way is better than mine or yours anyway…
The second is a little more serious. Sometimes we do have a sense of what is best for a family member or friend, and they just won’t see it. Sometimes we can see a loved one slipping down the wrong path, a dangerous path, and we feel powerless to help. Maybe its a coworker that has confided in you that they are about to make a devastating decision, and try as you might to persuade them to do right, they won’t listen. It may be a spouse, child, or a parent that you wish would just hear your concern and love for them.
It may be you.
It may be you that needs to hear the wisdom and concern that is coming from friends and family. You may need to make a change in attitude or behavior that is causing harm to yourself or others. They’ve been trying to get your attention, what will it take?
My mom has now scared two generations into saving a limb from drive by amputation. If there is someone you are concerned for, and feel compelled to reach out to…don’t wait. Pray, seek God, confidentially seek godly counsel from trusted friends(don’t gossip)…but care enough to act. You may have been trying without success. But consistent loving (not judgemental) intervention makes a difference over time.
And if its you who needs to wake up and listen…God’s grace is there, and the people who love you will love you through it. And hopefully you won’t need more than a big band-aid to cover the spot.
being a godly man, not worrying about being wierd, and building more than a building…building a church
“What you do for God beyond your home will not typically be greater than what you practice with God within your home” – G. Wishall
Pretty profound. Pretty convicting too. This quote haunts me on two levels. The first has to do with being a godly man. As Christian husbands and fathers we have the God-given responsibility to be the spiritual leaders in our homes. But what in the world does that mean? Am I supposed to lead mini vacation bible school sessions in my living room every night? Am I to deliver long devotionals before every mealtime? Should I make my kids and wife memorize long sections of Charles Spurgeon’s sermons, or Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible? Man I sure hope that’s not what it means to be a spiritual leader in the home. I couldn’t even come close to living up to that. Defining spiritual leadership in those terms leads to disappointment and guilt. Randy Stinson has made a statement that moves us closer to getting at a good definition, “Dad is [usually] working too much, or pursuing his own personal pleasures instead of sacrificially providing spiritual leadership for his family.” Ok so, working too much and pursuing my own personal pleasures aren’t part of the spiritual leadership equation. I knew that…right? When you contrast those two notions with sacrificial spiritual leadership the picture gets clearer. Here’s what I believe:
Sacrificial spiritual leadership means being present. It doesn’t mean never playing golf or going hunting, but it does mean doing those things only when your family has seen your face and felt your presence. How long is long enough? If youre trying to figure that out…it hasn’t been long enough. It doesn’t mean rambling lectures at the dinner table about the 10 Commandments, it means being present enough to teach them through the hundreds of opportunities that arise everyday of your child’s life. You won’t be there for them all, but you can be for quite a few. It means listening…listening to your children and to your wife. If you will actively listen, you will hear opportunities for action. My kids were talking about an anger management video they were shown at school the other day. I would have never known about it had I not asked some questions about their day and listened carefully. I learned that the video had suggested a technique which I disagreed with. I discussed it with my kids and showed them what the Bible had to say about anger and controlling it. I added the values I wanted my children to possess on the subject. Am I super spiritual leader dad? Nope, I just happened to get that right. But that kind of effort will rarely let me down. It doesn’t mean holding church services in your living room (necessarily), but it does mean getting your family to church…and staying there with them. And finally…pray. Pray with them and for them. They may think you’re weird if you start now and its been a while, but I’ve got news for you: they think you’re wierd anyway. It might as well be for something spiritual, and they will respect you for it whether it shows or not. But by the way, leadership isn’t about impressing them and winning cool points; it’s about leading. Your kids don’t need another best friend, they need a godly father. If you want to be somebody’s best friend…be your wife’s. That’s leadership too.
The second has to do with our churches. If what we can do for God beyond our homes is directly related to what we are doing with God in our homes, we are left with some serious implications. The church should clearly be investing in the spiritual health of families more than programs. Many programs do strengthen families, that is true. But how many programs minster to the whole family instead of the individual? Not enough. Too often families part ways in the church parking lot and don’t see each other again until they arrive back at the car when church is over. Too often the spiritual training of children is relegated by parents to program volunteers and professional ministers. And as ministers, we accept the responsibility too easily. As Timothy Jones has said, some things are too important to leave to someone else. Jones adds, “As I examine the expectations of Scripture, I find woven throughout its pages that neither the temple nor the synagogue nor professional ministers bore the first responsibility for training children to be followers of God. The home provided the primary context for discipleship…” It is my desire to see our churches be more of partners and resources for men, women, and parents in building strong families. Only then when we measure our unified impact in our community will we find something of more worth than a corner of property where various meetings occur. Then will we find families living missional lives led by godly men and women who partner together as First Baptist Church. Loving God, Loving People, and Serving the World Together.
OK at this point in my morning its just …
OK at this point in my morning its just going to help me to write this. I just finished the planning for a week long “Love Loud” outreach event. FBC Woodstock has modeled this type of event, and it is from FBCW that the name comes. But the point is that for one week, people engage in hands on activities that will enable them to show love to our community. Seven days, the whole church, physically showing love in concerted ways every day.
Not giving money in love, not signing up to drop off some love at the church office, not praying for other people to show more love, not scheduling a meeting to discuss love, not outlining and researching love, not strategic planning love.
Personally, physically, emotionally, showing love.
I haven’t even looked at the church calendar to think about scheduling this event. But this event in itself is not the point.
The Christian life, and the effectiveness of the church is summed up in these elements. Love God, Love People (The Great Commandment), and Serve the World Together (The Great Commission). Loving Loud cannot be relocated to an event which comes and goes on a calendar. It MUST be a way of life for God’s people.
It is critical to the success of the church for people to give financially, but it is not enough. “Does God just want to suck the life out of me?!” you might ask. Nope, God wants to give you life. The kind of life you can only get by giving yours away. See Matthew 10:37-42 for more on this.
For the record, never sacrifice your family for the sake of busyness at the church. God desires for your family to be healthy, and stretching family time too thin so you can teach 3 classes and attend 2 more doesn’t work. You may feel like if you don’t do it, no one will. I sympathize, believe me. But it is also true that if you keep doing it, no one else will . And if you keep doing it to the detriment of your family, you won’t do it much longer either. Deut. 6:1-9 is clear, the home is the launching point for your service in the Kingdom. Get that part right, or your ministry and life will be top-heavy, and soon crash around you. Loving Loud begins at home. I need to be held accountable to this just as much as the rest of you.
Essentially my point is this: For too long the church has hired out real ministry. For too long we have allowed a few people to bear the burden of the work of the church while everyone else sat back and enjoyed their labor. (I’m not refering to the pastors) For too long we have convinced ourselves that giving to the church financially is sufficient, and that if the money was there, surely someone would volunteer to serve. For too long we have settled for dropping supplies off at the church office so someone else can do the work instead of showing up with your sleeves rolled up ready to get at it. And all this has happened so we could take care of the club members while the folks riding past he property every day continue to suffer and struggle. This is true in every church in America.
I need some folks to volunteer to BE AT the church and participate in Trunk or Treat, not just drop off candy for it at the church office. The candy is not the point, you are. If candy was the point we could set out a few buckets in front of the church and all stay home and watch TV. The point is that the PEOPLE of the church be here to meet and interact with the families of our community. Drive your car up to the church, sit behind it, and enjoy people for a couple of hours. But let me know so I can expect you. dwalker@firstbaptistthomson.org
How does real change happen? Everybody has to do something. Everybody has to look beyond themselves and participate in one of the ministries of the church.
If donating supplies is physically the best you can do, then God bless you, and THANK YOU. That is your part and it matters greatly. Your service is no less valuable than anyone else’s.
If you are physically able, and can’t think of a way you have rolled up your sleeves and participated in an activity designed for someone other than yourself in the last year…pray, seek God as to how you could get involved, and stop waiting on someone else to do what you know needs to happen. I am here to help in any way I can. Like Jim said yesterday, the local church is this world’s best hope for salvation. That’s what Jesus intended.
the mingling of two worlds I’m sittin…
the mingling of two worlds
I’m sitting here blankly staring at the floor after a busy Sunday morning. I had several teachers out this morning in Sunday School so I combined a couple of classes with mine and taught a large group. The end result was several young adults in a class with quite a few senior adult men who were gracious enough to invite us into their classroom. And in the midst of that blending, I received a blessing that is just now sinking in.
I serve in a church that has an extraordinarily high number of very distinguished elderly men and women. Many of them served honorably in the military, including serving in critical battles of WWII. The class I taught this morning had several of these gentlemen in it, one of which was at Pearl Harbor in 1941 when it was bombed by the Japanese. Also visiting in my class today was a young lady who recently returned from doing short term missions in Papua New Guinea. Because she was a new face, I introduced her to the class. Several of the men perked up immediately as they had been stationed in Papua New Guinea during WWII. This sparked a fascinating conversation.
She shared just a little of what she had done there, but these men didn’t need to hear much to be moved by her presence. While she had been working in a very different environment than the one in which they experienced, they felt a kinship to her. Apparently Japan seized Papua New Guinea, and surrounding islands, in March of 1942 because of their strategic location. American and Australian forces teamed up for some fierce fighting to eventually drive the Japanese out of Papua New Guinea in 1943 sometime. At least one of the men there this morning was a part of that offensive, others arrived in country soon after.
I have no idea how these soldiers viewed the locals of Papua New Guinea. As far as I can tell, the locals didn’t fight for either side definitively, although I may be wrong. But my sense is our soldiers understood that as they were weakening Japan by taking back Papua New Guinea, they were also setting the locals free from invading/occupying forces. These were heated battles, and the Japanese fought for every square mile they had occupied. It was a critical victory for Allied Forces. You can start reading more here.
Now 67 years later, these men meet a young lady who has visited that same place attempting to set more locals free. However she wasn’t fighting an enemy that was physically occupying the countryside, she was bringing the light of the gospel to the dark places of hearts that are prisoners of sin.
It is true that had American and Australian forces not prevailed there, and overall in WWII, Papua New Guinea and the world might not be open for the gospel to be spread so freely today. In many ways, though they didn’t perhaps forsee it at the time, these men fought 67 years ago to make a world safe from tyranny that would happily see the spread of the gospel shut down.
The men prayed for her this morning, and voted to donate some money to support her missions activity. But the gift they gave all of us as they served so bravely back then is worth immeasurably more than they even know, or would ever admit. I pray that my generation might contribute something a fraction so meaningful to the world as these men. Perhaps we can begin by loving and honoring the ones of them who are still with us.
