Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Valor



“Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.”-  Victor Hugo

Everybody knows everybody.  In a town this small anyone within city limits knows his neighbor.  The novelist and playwright Thornton Wilder wasn't too far off in his depiction of small town life in his play Our Town.  There's a Methodist, Catholic, and Baptist church in town.  A cemetery, a mom and pop's grocery store, a post office, a photography studio, a post office, a quilt shop, a car repair shop and a pharmacy line the main streets.  The wind yanks at the lights and wreaths that hang from the light poles lining main street causing them to rock and sway. But today, it isn't any of the decorations that catch my attention.  On the outskirts of town lies a Catholic cemetery.  They stand, brave and tall.  White hats sit on their heads like doves, and their blue coats have a line of straight brass buttons down the front.  USMC.  

The wind is blowing hard today, and yet they stand calmly in their dress blues.  I wait.  A police car blocks traffic, and I have no choice but to wait.  I wonder.  Who was this soldier?  As far as my eyes can see the cars, trucks and vans continue to come.  A white hearse pulls up next to the hole lined with green carpet cloth.  December. Such a hard time to lose someone you love. Such a sad time to say goodbye.  But then, is anytime a good time to say goodbye?  The men salute the hearse, the two stand alone. Their pants whip in the wind.  I think to myself, "What a depressing job!" To have to stand by the grave of another soldier, to see the faces of those he loved, to stand in the almost winter-cold and windchill, to say goodbye knowing that it could have been you.  And yet, honorable.  

My mind wanders to two separate graveside experiences, both in December.  Snow will cover it all, and spring will come.  The quietness of winter, the death of things living.  The promise of Spring blossoming and bringing life again to all things.  Hope.  In the midst of pain there is hope.  These goodbyes are not forever.  And yet, we are all standing by.  In one way or another, we are standing by and waiting.  We are living.  Learning to say goodbye takes a special kind of courage.  Bravery is doing in the face of difficulty what is honorable. 

Bravery may be standing by and being excited for a friend when she is engaged and getting married, and you are still single.  Bravery may be meeting that friend who is pregnant when you aren't, but want to be.  Bravery may be stepping across the street to see your neighbor.  Bravery may be fostering those kids, you know, those ones that no one else takes.  The forgotten ones.  Bravery may be loving that person.  You know, the one who hurt you deeply.  Bravery isn't just for soldiers. Noble causes can be taken on by the most common of men. 

Bravery, valor and honor led my Savior to the cross. 

Where do you see courage and honor in your life today? What do you need to be brave about?  Heroes are made one choice at a time.

2 comments:

  1. I'm seeing courage and honor in two of my best friends who were called upon to lead a local church through the mysteriously hushed resignation of their senior pastor. They have accepted the call and they have been slandered, gossiped about, abused, accused and abandoned for it. They have maintained their integrity and their purity, and they have been 100% respectful of the privacy of the resigning pastor and his family, and they have yet to receive a fraction of the respect and honor they lavish on other people.

    But they're still faithfully doing the work, and responding quietly and patiently to the anger and bitterness that they don't deserve. It's heartbreaking to watch, but also unspeakably inspiring - like a soldier guarding a grave in December.

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  2. Wow. Sometimes heroes are the ones who quietly take action while standing silently. Thanks for visiting, spitsandwiggles, and congrats on your journey into motherhood.

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