EP 46: Let Us Never Forget

In honor of Memorial Day, I’m sharing a couple of my favorite poems, to ensure we never forget the sacrifices of those who purchased our freedom with their blood.

Never Forget (Podcast Transcript)

Hello, Friend. And welcome to episode 46 of Loving Life at Home. Today is Monday, May 27. Memorial Day, and our family is heading back home after spending the weekend in San Antonio attending the RPT or Republican Party of Texas Convention with a short jog through Dallas … just long enough to cheer the Dallas Mavericks on to victory over the Minnesota Timberwolves in the NBA Playoffs last night.

My 86-year-old mother went to the game with us, even though it meant missing church last night, which she rarely does. But she herself played basketball in college and has been following the playoffs even closer than we have, so my husband insisted she come along.

That was my first NBA game ever, and It was a lot of fun.

We got to the arena nearly an hour early, so I brought along some needlework to do before the game started – a little quilted pennant banner that spells America which I plan to hang on my mantle from Memorial Day until the Fourth of July.

God Bless America

I started working on that at the RPT convention, to keep my hands busy  (and my mind alert) during those long caucus meetings and general sessions. I normally keep a small pair of folding scissors in my bag for snipping threads, but when we’d left home, I grabbed a very large, very sharp pair of titanium scissors instead, which are much better for cutting fabric.

Unfortunately, I forgot to take them out of my bag before heading to the convention center in San Antonio, which was a half-mile walk from our hotel. And – since I’ve had multiple pairs of those tiny folding scissors confiscated before being allowed to board planes of visiting government buildings – I was regretting bringing my good sewing shears to this big event and potentially losing them in similar fashion.

But then I spotted some of my fellow delegates walking into the convention with their open-carry holsters strapped around their legs and torsos and realized… nobody at the RPT convention was going to be one bit worried about my packing a pair of embroidery scissors, no matter how long their blades. None of us were required to pass through a metal detector or be patted down because the underwire of our bras set off some alarm.

Which was refreshing. Looking out over the crowd, I was reminded of that scene from Miss Congeniality where Sandra Bullock launches herself off the Alamo stage to tackle a man in the crowd because she glimpsed a gun strapped inside his jacket.

“We’re in Texas,” her exasperated handlers explain afterwards. “Everyone carries a gun in Texas. My florist has a gun!”

Contrast that with trying to get into the American Airlines Arena for the basketball game last night. We had to stand in a long line, surrender our bags for inspection, and pass through a metal detector before we were allowed inside the building. But – happily– I’d wisely left my scissors in the car for that event and just used my teeth for cutting threads while we were there.

A barbershop quartet sang the National Anthem before the game, which was really nice.

And all the speeches we heard at the convention were very patriotic, as well. They reminded us that the freedoms we enjoy in the US of A – although they were endowed by our Creator – have only been preserved at a high cost. And we should all recognize and cherish them as a great heritage that deserves our continued and vigilant protection.

I believe all of that whole-heartedly.

And so, in honor of Memorial Day, I want to share a couple of my favorite patriotic poems with you today. Both are available as free printables, which I’ll link in the show notes.

The first is a poem by Edgar Albert Guest called The Boy Enlists

I love that poem for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact I have a soldier for a son myself. But it’s also a good reminder that every man who has ever given his life in service to our country was somebody’s son. Every woman was someone’s daughter.

Often, when we see veterans on the news or meet them in real life, they are old with gray hair and wrinkles. But they didn’t look like that when they were first shipped overseas, and neither did their fallen comrades.

They looked more like the teens who sit across from me at the breakfast table every morning. Like my married sons and the fathers my grandchildren. Like my daughters who work long hours at the hospital taking care of patients. Or my daughters-in-law who spend their days at home training little ones.

And it breaks my heart to think of these strong, handsome young people who have their whole lives ahead of them laying down those lives in service to their country. But historically, that’s how it has played out. That’s what has happened.

Which brings me to the second poem I’d like to share today: In Flanders Fields by John McCrae

Isn’t that haunting? It was penned by an artillery commander and brigade doctor named  Major John McCrae, after he’d been called upon to conduct a burial service for a fallen comrade.

Legend has it that McCrae was dissatisfied with what he’d written. So he threw it in the trash!

We only know about it today because someone came behind him, pulled it out of the rubbish bin, and circulated it among friends and family members. The poem eventually found its way into a newspaper, and the rest — as they say — is history.

I’ve committed this one to memory, and so have several of my children. Not only is it a historically significant poem (and a beautiful song!), but it also bears our family’s name. And it was written by a man who, like my own dear husband, served his country as an army doctor. Such details make the poem just that much more special to our family.

John 15:13 reads,

And 1 John 3:16 tells us,

Of course, Jesus exemplified this principle, but so do the men and women we honor every year on Memorial Day.

May we never forget that America is “the land of the free because of the brave” — and because of God’s blessing. We owe a debt of gratitude to the men and women who have fought to secure and preserve our liberty, and especially to those laid down their lives on our behalf.

In the words of Abraham Lincoln, let us dedicate ourselves “to the great task remaining before us— that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain —that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom —and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

May God bless America and draw us all back to Himself.