Do you have a
favorite 4th of July memory?
I have several. In 1999 I spent a
summer running a children’s camp in intercity Philadelphia. There is nothing like a 4th of
July Celebration in the city where our nations forefathers debated, toiled and
set up the documents that established our country as a place of freedom. There
was lots of fanfare. Things like a
retelling of the Signing of the Declaration of Independence, actors dressed in
the time period costumes and patriotic music played next to the Liberty
Bell. Not to mention fireworks. It was an exciting and memorable place to be
on the 4th of July.
However,
this is not my most memorable 4th of July. Mine was in Omaha, Nebraska in 1986. I was a
summer missionary for the Kansas/Nebraska Baptist Convention. My partner, Zoe Stroman Trip and I, spent the
summer moving around a lot. But during
the week of July 4th we were at a church in Omaha. We arrived on Saturday to be told that VBS
was on Monday. NOTHING had been
done. No teachers, no crafts,
nothing. To be honest I was a little
concerned, so much so I forgot that the next day was July 4th.
So on the 4th
of July, our host family took us to church.
We were, well I was, completely absorb with getting VBS together. As we
walked into the service, I was wishing I could have skipped it and work on
VBS. We had about 50 kids coming the next
day and so much to do.
As the
service began, I was drawn into it. I
don’t remember every detail, I just remember the choir. There were more men than women, which is so
unusual. They began to sing patriotic
songs. I was mesmerized. Not so
much by the music as by the emotion.
You see,
this town was a military town. Most of
the people in this area worked or were in the service at Offutt Air Force
Base. Most of the men in the choir were
in the Air Force. As this choir began to
sing, I watched grown men cry. They sang
“God Bless America” and “The Star Spangled Banner”. I really don’t remember if the signing was
good. But I do remember it was
wonderful.
The church
had decided to let service men give a word of “testimony” for the service. Men and women, one after the other, talked
about what it meant to them to serve our country. It’s been almost 30 years and I don’t
remember one single word. I just
remember the commitment. The love for
our country. The clear calling on their
life to protect freedom, to protect America, to protect me.
I think of
that day, at least for a fleeting second, every Independence Day. One of the reasons I remember this is a gift
the friends we made there gave us. We
had to be very flexible that summer. So
many of the churches that were supposed to “host” us failed to plan accordingly
and Zoe and I would end up in that same town outside of Omaha for most of the
summer. Each time we would arrive back our
friends would say we were “winging” it.
Going with the flow. Taking a
change of orders and plans in stride.
The called it “earning our wings.”
So as the summer came to a close, we were awarded our “wings”. (Pictured below.) And may I say “undeservedly
so”. These are Air Force wings. I cherish them, but I know that those men and
women, who wear them daily, deserve them way more than me.
I currently
live in a military community. Fort
Jackson, an Army base, is just on the other side of town. To see men and women in uniform, and since
Fort Jackson does a lot of basic training, to see such young men and women is
not uncommon. So much so, that it is
just the norm for us. How I take them
for granted. If only I could remember to
say thank you or to say a prayer for them as they pass by.
So this
Independence Day, as you eat your hamburgers and hot dogs and go to incredible
fireworks display, remember those who have “earned their wings”. Remember those who have given and are
currently giving their lives in service so that we might be free. And when you hear the “Star Spangled Banner”
and “God Bless America” may is sound wonderful to you.
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