Heroes Proved

My sessions of vivid dreaming have returned with the cooler evenings;  I think the extremely hot summer nights cooked the dreams right out of me.  Last night I dreamed of a knock on the door and an unfamiliar person.  Since we have only a peephole and no window, I couldn't clearly see the person.  I could only tell it was a child, male and not one I quickly recognized.  Because I was busy with other things, I decided not to answer the door to the child whom I assumed was selling things.  Yet he kept knocking.  So insistent was he with his rapping at the door that I looked again and this time could make out a dad and younger sibling nearby.  I surrendered.

The boy at the door was dressed in dark green and wearing a kufi.  His father, apologetic, explained to me that the child was supporting the effort in Kandahar.  Using his own money, he had gone to Walgreens and purchased a number of watches.  He was reselling the watches for donations.  The tears immediately started rolling down my face as I dug through my purse and fished out a $20.  As he handed me the watch I could see that he had scotch taped it to a piece of paper with a lot of childish writing on it.  The dad asked, "Are you all right ma'am?"

Through my tears I replied, "Yes.  It's just the war.  So much tragedy."

Then I woke up, as bolt upright as if a bell had rung.  Perhaps it had.

Lately I cannot stop thinking about the men and women of our armed forces.  Maybe it is because for the first time, I have sons.  I grew up in the era of the Vietnam War draft.

I am grateful for those who, at great personal cost, serve our country. Regardless of the controversial nature of wars, those who fought and those who now fight are heroes.  I find myself singing over and over the hundred year old hymn by Katherine Lee Bates, "America the Beautiful." All the verses are compelling but the third verse keeps bringing me to tears:

 

O beautiful for heroes prov'd

In liberating strife,

Who more than self their country lov'd,

And mercy more than life.

America! America!

May God thy gold refine

Till all success be nobleness,

And ev'ry gain divine.

Ponderings of a Patriot

Happy Independence Day!  It's a day for picnics, parades and patriotism. I am grateful to be an American and proud to be a patriot. 

I am grateful for the freedom I enjoy as a result of the spilled blood of countless heroes, most of whom will never be celebrated with medals or parades.  I am aware every day that my freedoms were not free, and I mean to make the most of them.  I am inspired by the fact that even though as a nation we have made some mistakes, we continue to strive for the freedom and equality of all our citizens.  We have a lot to be proud of . . . and a lot of work to do.  This work is not the job of politicians, it is the responsibility of every citizen.

The world is changing.  New powers are emerging.  How will we continue our proud traditions of freedom and democracy?  What is my role in this changing landscape? 

Today my role is to teach my children of our nation's history to ensure it is not repeated.  It is my job to fly my flag and remind my neighbors that it is indeed a land worth fighting for.  It is my responsibility to protect the rights and freedoms of all whose paths cross mine.  It is up to me to exercise my considerable rights so they are not lost; I will vote, I will serve on juries, I will celebrate my religious freedom.  I will honor and learn about the tapestry of cultures that makes up our country and respect our differences.  Perhaps most importantly, I will not take for granted that as a woman, I enjoy equal rights that many other women in the world only dream of: the right to be educated, to vote, to worship (or not) as I choose, to dress as I please, even to drive a car. 

On my favorite television show, Sunday Morning, British Prime Minister Tony Blair delivered an essay on, of all things, American Independence Day.  A couple of phrases stood out to me:
". . .the circumstances of independence are part of what makes America the great and proud nation it is today. And what gives nobility to the American character.
. . .It is a devotion to the American ideal that at a certain point transcends class, race, religion or upbringing.
That ideal is about values, freedom, the rule of law, democracy. " 
[Click on the words "Tony Blair" to see the essay for yourself.] 

I agree, Mr. Blair.  That "American ideal" has created my reality.  I will do my part to carry it forward.

Photo credit:  Graphics Fairy

What's in a word? Warrior.

I love words. They are so telling.

Take, for instance, the word warrior, as described in my trusty online dictionary:

1. a person engaged or experienced in warfare; soldier.
2. a person who shows or has shown great vigor, courage or aggression, as in politics or athletics.

from Dictionary.com website

I believe each of us, every day, is a spiritual warrior and that we are more or less successful at it every day. Sometimes, we are called upon to be aggressive or be courageous or show "great vigor" in the subtlest of circumstances. For instance, I may be called upon to vigorously defend my decision to take care of myself. You may be required to aggressively uphold someone's dignity, or your own.

I know an amazing family who are spiritual warriors of the highest ilk. They have courageously chosen to love in the most difficult of circumstances. They have given their home, their food, their time and, honorably, their hearts to three little children they did not bear. They have had to take this stand -- the stand to courageously love -- over and over as the court decides these babies' fate. They have done so in the knowledge that heart-break is not only possible, it is likely; they have done so with amazing grace and finesse.

Do they -- or we fight these battles without fear or trepidation? I dare say that often we do not and we are indeed aflutter. The choice to pursue victory over these tribulations is not a mere velleity; these are not battles taken up in simple haste.

Hence that word, warrior. If what is required of us were simple, there would be no ascendancy. What is required to be a spiritual warrior is that we face into the fear as well as the battle; that we stand there with our quaking knees and trembling spirits. And, as well, that we use that sword to cut away the chaff; to constantly seek and find our path amid the weeds and clutter so that what is truly meaningful can emerge and shine forth in us.

Happy Sunday!