Being of Service? What More Profound Way than Service to Country. (#BestOf)

(the Best of) A Year of Being Kind, Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Today is Veterans Day 2015. Yes, I am reposting the Veterans Day blog post from last November. It still holds true. I still feel a great sense of gratitude to all who have served. And, I still pray for all those who stand in harm’s way, no matter where, no matter who. I am praying for you today.

A Year of Being Kind blog – Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Flanders Field poppies

Being of Service? What More Profound Way than Service to Country.

Today is Veterans Day. I have heard about, read about the many sacrifices veterans have made, over the years. But I am also thinking of how this commemoration started. Armistice Day was what it was called. The ending of World War I, the cessation of all fighting. On the eleventh day of the eleventh month, at the eleventh hour. That horrific, bloody, awful war. Ending, ninety-six years ago today.

I think, too, of that eloquent poem by Lt. Col. John McCrae, so vividly portraying the poppies on the field of battle. Written almost one hundred years ago, this word picture from the point of view of the dead remains one of the most memorable snapshots in words of that terrible conflict.

War is never pretty. Sometimes for reasons of great societal conflict. Occasionally for moral reasons of profound purpose and rectitude. Again—war is never comfortable and pleasant.

I pray for all those who have served their country, or presently are serving. I pray for all of these military personnel, whichever country they are fighting for. Even if these countries are at odds with mine, currently, that still doesn’t make their soldiers and sailors and airmen any the less people. Human beings. Each one of them still has a mother, and other family members and friends. I recognize the humanity and the personhood in all of them.

Yes, in Flanders field and far beyond, we do commemorate these military personnel. My father was a veteran of World War II, and so were his three brothers. My grandfather served in the U.S. Army in World War I, in France. I honor these brave soldiers. And so many, many more. I honored them on Sunday, in the morning church service, and the whole congregation prayed for veterans and those currently in service, with a precious prayer.

I remember them today. On Remembrance Day. Veteran’s Day. We remember. God bless all those who are currently serving, and especially those who have served. Amen.

@chaplaineliza

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(Suggestion: visit me at my daily blog for 2015: matterofprayer: A Year of Everyday Prayers.   @chaplaineliza And read my sermons from Pastor, Preacher Pray-er – Thanks!)

Being of Service? What More Profound Way than Service to Country.

A Year of Being Kind blog – Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Being of Service? What More Profound Way than Service to Country.

Today is Veterans Day. I have heard about, read about the many sacrifices veterans have made, over the years. But I am also thinking of how this commemoration started. Armistice Day was what it was called. The ending of World War I, the cessation of all fighting. On the eleventh day of the eleventh month, at the eleventh hour. That horrific, bloody, awful war. Ending, ninety-six years ago today.

I think, too, of that eloquent poem by Lt. Col. John McCrae, so vividly portraying the poppies on the field of battle. Written almost one hundred years ago, this word picture from the point of view of the dead remains one of the most memorable snapshots in words of that terrible conflict.

War is never pretty. Sometimes for reasons of great societal conflict. Occasionally for moral reasons of profound purpose and rectitude. Again—war is never comfortable and pleasant.

I pray for all those who have served their country, or presently are serving. I pray for all of these military personnel, whichever country they are fighting for. Even if these countries are at odds with mine, currently, that still doesn’t make their soldiers and sailors and airmen any the less people. Human beings. Each one of them still has a mother, and other family members and friends. I recognize the humanity and the personhood in all of them.

Yes, in Flanders field and far beyond, we do commemorate these military personnel. My father was a veteran of World War II, and so were his three brothers. My grandfather served in the U.S. Army in World War I, in France. I honor these brave soldiers. And so many, many more. I honored them on Sunday, in the morning church service, and the whole congregation prayed for veterans and those currently in service, with a precious prayer.

I remember them today. On Remembrance Day. Veteran’s Day. We remember. God bless all those who are currently serving, and especially those who have served. Amen.

@chaplaineliza

Like what you read? Disagree? Share your thoughts with your loved ones and continue the conversation.

A Poppy for Remembrance

A Year of Being Kind blog – Saturday, May 24, 2014

A Poppy for Remembrance

A beautiful day! Clear blue sky, low humidity, comfortable Memorial Day weekend. All in all, a great day.

I went downtown (in my suburb) to have breakfast with a few friends mid-morning. Today was such a lovely day that I almost felt like skipping down the sidewalk. My friends and I strolled along, talking, when I spied a man with a big bunch of poppies. The man stood near a street corner. He had on a baseball-style cap, but with some military insignia emblazoned on it.

I had been wondering about poppies. I always get at least one poppy on Memorial Day weekend. More, if I can. Poppies are for remembrance. And—I know I will be remembering my father and his three brothers, who all fought in World War II. They served in various capacities, in various branches of the armed forces.

My father Jack was stationed in the China-India-Burma theater of operations, in the Army Air Corps. I don’t really know too much about his service, because he never told me much. Except that the weather was really unpleasant, there were insects all over (of every description!), he was heartily glad of mosquito netting at night, and that the bulk of his time in the Army consisted of “hurry up and wait.” On occasion, while I was growing up, he would get stern and call for me and my older siblings to come “front and center!” I knew what that meant—I better show up speedy-quick! And be quiet and respectful, once I got there in front of him, besides.

But, back to poppies. The poppies are made by veterans in the VA hospitals, and distributed in many, many places by the American Legion, and the American Legion Auxiliary. But where did this originate? The red poppy was a symbol of the fallen soldiers, taken from a poem written during the first World War by a Canadian officer, Colonel John MacCrae: “In Flanders field the poppies blow,/Between the crosses row on row—“ The servicemen who returned brought back this vivid memory. Soon, poppies became a symbol of remembrance of the fallen servicemen and women who lost their lives during the wars. The disabled veterans took the poppy as their own, making them and distributing them for remembrance, on Memorial Day. And, contributions go towards rehabilitation work and disabled veterans, nationwide.

So—there I was. Face to face with this man in the baseball cap. I didn’t have too much in my wallet. Only a couple of bucks. But, I gave it to him, put the dollars in the can. He gave me a poppy, out of the large, red bunch of paper flowers he held. I told him about my dad and uncles, in World War II. He nodded, and said he had served in the first Gulf War, and pointed to an anchor pinned to his chest. “I was a Navy man,” he said. He wasn’t very talkative after that, but he certainly seemed grateful to receive the donation. And grateful for the openness on my part, to hear about him and his service.

God, bless this veteran. And every other veteran, nationwide. Especially those who have died in the service of our country.

@chaplaineliza

Like what you read? Disagree? Share your thoughts with your loved ones and continue the conversation.