Posted over on my personal blog is a letter, published in a church bulletin, from nonChristian parents to the congregation where their son was converted. Quite a touching letter and quite the contrast from most reactions of people in similar situations.
While you’re over there, check out my battle poem as well.
Last stanza of Grace Noll Crowell’s poem, “Pilgrimage:”
Then surely, Lord, I can go foward knowing
That somewhere on the hills the light will dawn,
And I shall reach it safely if, in going,
You still lead on.
Am I in a poetry mood today? I wouldn’t have thought it. But I just listened to Don Williams sing “Till the Rivers All Run Dry.” That ought to stir the hardest heart, no?
Here’s a stanza, extempore:
How soldiers suffer, bleed unseen,
We’ll never know;
What horrors pass, or hells unclean,
What demons blow;
If not for them, defense and shield,
We’d serve the foe;
From sacrifice on battlefields
Our freedoms flow.
A somber and grateful Memorial Day for us all.