As Unknown and Yet Well Known...

2 Corinthians 6:9 As unknown, and yet well known...

As Americans pause this weekend to honor those who have given their "last full measure of devotion" to the cause of liberty, we are humbled and deeply grateful for their sacrifice.

Yet, words of gratitude, elegant floral wreaths in cemetaries, and patriotic music are painfully inadequate. Writing in this weekend's Wall Street Journal, Mark Helprin reminds us that "the only fitting memorials to the long ranks of the dead" is for our generation to rise up with "resolution, vigilance, and sacrifice," to protect and to preserve the nation we are so blessed to call home.

Several weeks ago I came across a video history of the Second World War. I watched the footage of Americans landing on the beaches of Normandy amidst a hail of bullets and canon fire. I saw Americans soldiering forward with abandonment. These were the men "who more than self their country loved, and mercy more than life."

But establishing a toehold on the beaches was only the first step. There was literally a thousand miles between them and the head of the Nazi beast. Onward!

When their comrades fell, they reorganized and pressed forward. 120,000 Americans died in that dreadful and glorious march to victory. Eisenhower I know. Patton, Marshall, Bradley are names I recognize. These were the Generals who led our troops to triumph.

But who really won the day? Who was it that secured the victory? Who was it that finally tightened the noose around the neck of Hitler's monstrous Third Reich?

The nameless, the unknown, the unrecognized hundreds of thousands of soldiers who kissed their mothers and wives and children farewell, who left their family farms, walked away from small businesses, put their college education on hold, and enlisted in the great crusade of their generation. These were the true heroes.

Walk onto the hallowed grounds of the American military cemetaries and the rows upon rows of crosses are a touching reminder of their great sacrifice.

I remember my father talking about seeing Blue Stars in the windows of those homes that had sent soldiers. As a Jr. High student, he recounted walking down the streets of Lomax, Illinois and seeing what had been Blue Stars replaced with Gold Stars. Another casualty. Nameless. Unknown. But without their sacrifice there would have been no V-Day.

And then I felt a tear course down my cheek. I felt reproved.

You see, I have wanted to be a General in the Lord's Army--a John Wesley, a William Booth, a Charles Cowman. I've wanted to be known. I've wanted to be a leader. I've wanted to be successful. I chafe at my reality--unknown, unspectacular, and unsuccessful. I complain to God. He glances up from washing my feet, engages my eyes and says, "I have given you an example..."

He then reminds me that in the great conflict that rages between Heaven and hell, between Truth and error, between Holiness and sinfulness, HE is the General--the Commander in Chief. I am serving at His command. "Who am I?" "Without Him I would be nothing." God forgive me for wanting to share the glory that belongs only to Him.

He whispers, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." Oh yes! That is what I long to hear.

I grab my jacket, find the key, and head out to drive the Sunday School Bus. Onward.