Memorial Day



A day off for many people, a milestone indicating nearness to the end of another school year, for students and teachers.  The weekend the pool opens.  Time for cook-outs, family, friends and neighbors getting together.  And at veteran cemeteries across the nation, small clusters of people will gather and remember, and honor the sacrifices of many thousands of men and women who fought for the principles of freedom that America has always stood for, only, this year, the sorrow will be greater than ever, as those who are conscious of the value of this freedom, and of the cost of the freedom, grow fewer every day.  This year those who do understand, will mourn, even as we celebrate.  For this freedom that is being thrown away by new generations who don’t understand what it is they hold in their hand.

Every week I hear someone ask, “is it too late for America?”  And every week I hear someone say, “no, never too late for America”.   I write from a different perspective than many patriots, because I write from the “bigger picture” of Bible Prophecy. This week will stand as yet another pivot point, another “new record” in indications of the world’s descent into chaos.  Evil which has always been a general threat, seems to be getting meaner, more personal and ruthless.  Several stories have involved kids killing kids, with cold and calculated premeditation.  The hubris of the Obama administration in their scandals and utter contempt for rule of law, as if it is ludicrous for us to even entertain the notion that the law applies to them.  The clear uptick in high-magnitude Earthquakes in unusual places, and volcanoes behaving in ways that have scientists baffled, snow in May.  The riots in Sweden, the meat-cleaver murder in London, the farce of political correctness that refuses to call it what it is: Radical Islamic bullying, terrorism.  More states and nations passing “gay marriage” laws while the Western media (not just the U.S.) lies and tells us that the majority now support it, even while demonstrations and protests prove otherwise.

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I thought I was sick of this world a year ago.  I thought I could hardly stand to breathe the air here anymore a month ago.  There are moments I feel a little like one of those people buried in the rubble in some enormous catastrophic collapse, drifting in and out of consciousness, barely able to remain aware for the sheer exhaustion of it all.  But only in the sense of the continued effort to cover it all and keep the significant stories in the forefront.  As you have noticed, this blog has few posts on weekends other than re-blogs, simply because like anyone else, I deal better with these things if I am not continually dwelling on them.

There are a lot of us sounding the alarm.  The call has gone out. “Take cover!  This area is going to be directly impacted by the coming storm!”  But those who falsely believe they are immune to the death and destruction bearing down, go on as if nothing whatsoever has changed.   There is a line that has already been drawn, and at this point I feel there are precious few with any intent of changing their minds about which side to stand on.  That doesn’t mean I’m willing to surrender the fight.  Maybe just taking it to a more personal level, in the trenches themselves.  My focus has been to warn and encourage those in the church as much as the lost.

There comes a time in every rescue operation, when the question arises as to whether continuing has become futile.  The burning structure becomes 100% engulfed, the water temperature in a water rescue too cold to sustain life, the rubble in the collapse too unstable, odds of bringing anyone else out alive becomes too low to warrant the risk of losing more lives in the form of rescue personnel.

On this Memorial Day, the turnout to the ceremony in my little town was 4 or 5 times what it has generally been in recent years.  That is encouraging, but whether it is “enough” remains to be seen.  There were people of every age, but mostly those over sixty, and just a handful of children or babies, a half-dozen teens.

After we arrived, greeted familiar folks, and found a place in the shade, an older gentleman walked toward us exclaiming that he had found his grand-daddy’s tombstone.  He called me over like an old friend, excited and wanting to show it to me, so I went along and saw the tombstone of CC Wilson.  He’d fought in WWI, and the gentleman’s dad had fought in WWII.  He said “my Daddy used to say ‘I whup ya because I love’s ya!” and the old gentleman threw his head back and laughed.  It was a delight to meet this spry octogenarian.  He said “my sister is 96 years old and I’m eighty-nine”.  About that time the program came to order, and we made our way back over toward the crowd, where he disappeared among the throng.  But as we were leaving, walking toward home, we encountered him again, chatting up a VFW member as he loaded up his car.  “My Daddy used to say, ‘I whup ya because I loves ya”, and he laughed just like before.  I went over to him and gave him a hug and said “I hope you live to be a hundred and ten”.  He laughed and went on his merry way and I thanked the Lord that I’ve had the opportunity to meet and know some of those folks from “the greatest generation”.  They are of a hearty stock that is fading away with each bittersweet Memorial Day gathering.  Things aren’t what they ought to be, here in America, but it’s not over yet.  Every gathering such as this, and all those other small gatherings in communities all across the nation, prove once again, that love for America and all she has historically stood for, is still alive and well, and perhaps even gaining momentum.

I pray that the Lord will see fit, in hearing the prayers of Christians in America, to raise up righteous men once again, to lead this nation back toward the light of righteousness.  That my kids, instead of seeing the death of this nation, will get to witness a come-back, not to what we have been in the last couple of decades, more of a pruning way back that leaves the bush a little stubbly, bare and ugly for a time, but allows for the possibility of new blooms.

Not of the hollow kind of “revival” that occurred at 9/11, but to see a return to respect, decency, and common sense, obedience to God’s law.   As long as America is “still standing”, as long as God’s Holy Spirit is still dwelling in His people, there is preserving power, there is light, however dim it has grown, it can be stoked higher.  There is hope.  There is a glimmer of hope, not yet extinguished.  But will it take hold, or fizzle out?

I feel that God’s purposes for me personally in writing this blog, have run the course of their effectiveness.  In every endeavor God calls us to, He has His own agenda as to who is reached, helped, or effected by what He calls us to do, and at the same time He has specific plans for what He intends to accomplish in ourselves as we carry out the thing He calls us to.  If you are a regular reader, maybe it is your turn now, to take up the torch as a watchman on the wall.  Maybe He merely intends for me to rest a while, in preparation for another long-push that lies ahead.  I don’t know what He has in mind for me next in the intermediate-term.  Short-term I will help my dear friend Barbara in the final months of her being our neighbor, as she completes her packing and moving.

I only know that The Lord wants me to step back and away for the present.   A change of focus, writing in a different vein, or a more direct ministry of some kind, perhaps?  That will be a matter of prayer.  For now, this blog will remain public and visible without new posts, while I seek the Lord’s guidance, unless He steers me otherwise.  Hopefully you all know where to look, by now, to find the important news.  If not, just sift back through several of my posts, click on links, and start adding my sources to your own personal “favorites” list.  I still have a blogroll, though it is now at the bottom of the blog-stream.

One thing is for sure,  our world is sitting at a critical juncture. None of us knows how much time is left on the time-clock of human history, or our own lives either for that matter.  I know a couple of things, though.  My husband has that second-half push before him in his chemo treatments.  He needs and deserves my full attention.  I have a son for whom this is his last summer home, who will begin his Senior year this fall and strike out in his military career about this time next year if the Lord does tarry that long.

One reason that I have been able to invest so much time here on this blog and gathering information, is because it’s been a period of social withdrawal while I have rested physically and emotionally from several difficulties and stresses throughout the past year. That’s necessary with my conditions, but not meant to be a permanent state of existence.

So, keep watching what’s happening in the Middle East and here in America.  Stay prayed up, and filled up with the Word and the Spirit, and when you think of it, pray for me, and for our family.  God bless you, and may God bless America just one more time!


One thought on “Memorial Day

  1. I am going to miss you Sandy. God bless you. I so enjoy your posts. I come here every day. I do understand that you need to slow down on this. It was like me pulling the plug on Facebook. What a relief. It really is a draining thing for me…too fragmented with all that is going on. And then waiting on The Lord, and still having to function in this dark world…is really hard. Hard to keep my head out of the clouds….. Love, Heidi


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