Veteran's Day

As I was sitting up in the tech booth today in church I was coming to some blatant realizations about a lot of things, some that I even plan to write possibly more blogs about. I'm not even sure anyone is reading these but I write this in hopes that you can understand me a little better.

Anyway, today being the Sunday before Veteran's Day our church was honoring our vets. They had them stand up and everyone clapped. We even had the opportunity to dedicate the boy of a dad who is serving in Iraq. We prayed for him, the baby, and the other babies on stage, and the dad and the other active duty personnel from our church. Somewhere in the midst of the praying, standing, clapping, and a particular strong-worded song, I was crying. Not balling but my eyes were welling up.

The words of the song talked about a boy who tried to pick his mom a rose, out of love, but ended up cutting up his hand in the process. It continues to the mother and boy reading the Bible together. Apparently it's a picture Bible because the boy sees a picture of Jesus, and he points out to his mother that Jesus has scars on his hands. Like the boy scarring his hands out of love for his mom, Jesus did the same for us(on a much grander scale). The final verse of the song is when the boy grows up, he joins the military and goes to war. While serving, he sacrifices his life to save one of his friends. Again out of love.

This is what hit me in the midst of this: I don't deserve this kind of love. I can't emphasize this more. What makes this so hard to comprehend? I've realized this before but something today hit me hard: Actually almost exactly two years ago God(Himself, no joke) pointed this out to me. The closest humanly possible representation of Christ's sacrifice for us on the cross is the sacrifice that the men and women of our armed services make every single day. I don't care if you don't agree with war, honestly I don't either. You have to agree with this; These people risk their lives not out of personal gain but out of selfless sacrifice ON A DAILY BASIS.

Going back to my epiphany two years ago: Honestly this will sound hard to believe, but I'm telling you the truth. The night I had this thought was exactly seven years, TO THE DAY, after my Grandpa Dyer died. I don't know if you know this well enough about me but that man is the person I have tried to model my life after. I have never admired anyone else in my whole life more than that man. Seriously, I even started crying again when I typed that. I miss him that much. (I know I will see him again in heaven and that makes me extremely excited) Wow. I hate to get sappy, but I'm crying again, this time they're tears of joy though. Anyway, if you didn't know my grandpa served in the Marines during World War II and earned the Purple Heart on Saipan for getting shot by a lone Japanese officer who charged his foxhole at night. He eventually became a pastor and shepherded many people, including me, although probably no more so then in his death, in their walks with God. I can not be any more prideful, in any greater sacrifice than the sacrifices made by the men and women just like my grandpa. Call me a patriot. I want to further emphasize the necessity of realizing that our Savior first loved us and laid down his life so that we may have life with him in eternity.

I want to write more but I feel if you're reading this I will restrain myself for your time's sake.