General Robert E. Lee once declared, "It is well that war is so terrible, otherwise we would grow too fond of it." These truthful words are as viable today as they were back in 1862 when he first made them. And why? Because truth is truth. And thankfully, there are still many of us who do not delight in bloodshed and war in the same way General Lee described. Still, it seems as if our very natures deny this truth in open favor of controlling and limiting the potential of others. What is more is that our nation is currently engaged in at least three known conflicts - Afghanistan, Iraq, and Libya. And while it seems reasonable to conclude that our own country may soon experience war upon its own soil, at least we have not yet begun distinguishing ourselves by blue or gray uniforms. So why the delay? Especially when both political parties portray themselves as only painted fire rather than the real thing in their shared convictions? What remains in us that promotes such a strong disliking for war and all levels of conflict? Where may we find the greatest peace?
As mentioned in my earlier post, 732 A.D., we are a "brink species." I entertained the notion that the ideas and passions of men have always seemed to bring us to the brink of things - to the brink of discovery, to the brink of despair, or to the brink of war. I commented that as a people we seem to lean toward the edge of life, trotting along its cliffs with seemingly little care and caution for the small side step toward our own demise. However, as I've continued to contemplate this phenomenon in man, I have come to realize that there exists an equally opposing force by which we can experience greater steadiness and value from the corrupting influences of the world that pull toward personal and spiritual ruin, especially in times of great controversy, strife, and conflict. This balancing power, so great in its hold yet tender in its expression, the solid beam of light forever lancing through life's darkest storms, is called love.
As mentioned in my earlier post, 732 A.D., we are a "brink species." I entertained the notion that the ideas and passions of men have always seemed to bring us to the brink of things - to the brink of discovery, to the brink of despair, or to the brink of war. I commented that as a people we seem to lean toward the edge of life, trotting along its cliffs with seemingly little care and caution for the small side step toward our own demise. However, as I've continued to contemplate this phenomenon in man, I have come to realize that there exists an equally opposing force by which we can experience greater steadiness and value from the corrupting influences of the world that pull toward personal and spiritual ruin, especially in times of great controversy, strife, and conflict. This balancing power, so great in its hold yet tender in its expression, the solid beam of light forever lancing through life's darkest storms, is called love.
To illustrate this point, permit me to share the meaningful words written by a great man, Viktor Frankl, who, in his seminal work, Man's Search for Meaning, described firsthand the outside limits of evil and its destructive effects while a prisoner in Auschwitz death camp during World War II. Even then, despite his excruciating hardships and the constant coldness brought on by an encircling death, he persisted on through the icy winds of starvation, fatigue, and pain in the deep and quiet contemplation of his beloved. He writes:
"Occasionally I looked at the sky, where the stars were fading and the pink light of the morning was beginning to spread behind a dark bank of clouds. But my mind clung to my wife's image, imagining it with an uncanny acuteness. I hear her answering me, saw her smile, her frank and encouraging look. Real or not, her look was then more luminous than the sun which was beginning to rise.
A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth - that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved."
He continued on with these final words about his wife and of the power of love to bridge both life and death:
"Love goes very far beyond the physical person of the beloved. It finds it deepest meaning in his spiritual being, his inner self. Whether or not he is actually present, whether or not he is still alive at all, ceases somehow to be of importance. I did not know whether my wife was alive, and I had no means of finding out (during all my prison life there was no outgoing or incoming mail); but at that moment it ceased to matter. There was no need for me to know; nothing could touch the strength of my love, my thoughts, and the image of my beloved. Had I known then that my wife was dead, I think that I would still have given myself, undisturbed by that knowledge, to the contemplation of her image, and that my mental conversation with her would have been just as vivid and just as satisfying."
There is an old saying that "true love never runs smoothly," and that to value each other's highest selves we must be able to endure the "thorns and the thistles" of this life not with fear and frustration but with a "perfect love." Thus, it is requisite that we experience trials. Adversity is the hammer thrust upon our personal and marital anvils that molds and shapes our characters into the way He would have us become. Such times of crisis not only refine our deepest selves, but they also define who we really are. And in order to know ourselves better, we must ever evaluate the strength and commitment we possess in our own vowed relationships. In the words of William George Jordan,
"When the nation is passing through a crisis, it is only by loyally working together that the people emerge again into the sunlight of peace and prosperity. What is true of the nation is true of the family. There is a soul tonic in the pervading consciousness of a last resource in each other's devotion no matter how high the waves of sorrow may roll, or how threatening their foaming invasion. This is the spirit of pulling together through a crisis that leaves a golden trail of strange happiness in the memory of a vanquished sorrow that threatened to submerge us. When conditions are darkest it is no time for blame of either; it is the hour when each should forget self in seeking to inspire the other. When conditions are darkest, the lamp of love should be kept burning brightest."
History is replete with stories about love and its happy and tragic ends; unions given form in secret or in truth to the movement or stopping of an empire. Indeed, there is truly something to be said about this most powerful of human emotions and of its sweet tenderness that haloes us through our darkest moments. Reverently, we must give thanks to Him who, after blood and nail, made love what it really is - an infinite source for peace, hope, and deliverance. Love, then, is the key to heaven and the only means whereby men can truly be saved, both temporally and spiritually. In my opinion, a man's stature is only as large as his ability to love and the manner in which he chooses to convey such righteous passions. Indeed, the highest chivalry manifested toward another consists of many qualities and attributes seemingly unbecoming in today's world - honor, gentleness, courtesy, and faithfulness. Such righteous demonstrations are not easily put out in the same way a fervid glance of the Cross is never really forgotten. When expressed in its highest form, love's ardor can turn the tide of war, heal nations, mend families, and even overcome the pains of death as the widow of Nain experienced by the Savior's compassionate hand:
"And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people.
Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her.
And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not.
And he came and touched the bier: and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.
And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother." (Luke 7:11-17)
A true patriot and disciple of Christ is emboldened by love and upon the joy that comes from selfless service and affection for his neighbor and that of his countrymen, no matter the debt to be paid. I would imagine that the widow of Nain never faltered in her personal testimony of the Savior after witnessing the compassion He delivered her in the form of her live son. But had her confidence waned while on her widowed walk through life's thorny briers, when the tugging and scraping was at its sharpest, she had only to look upon her son to be reminded of God's perfect love. Oh how insignificant life's problems would become if, for a moment, we stopped to consider heaven's peace in the eyes of our own spouse. Such joy and understanding can only come to those who actively seek its venture. For this reason, true greatness is love and to speak of it consistently, in thought, word, and deed brings more light to the world than even the greatest star. And of greater measure, in terms of love and affection, can a man be closer to the gods than when he speaks warmly of his darling wife. Such deep devotion, as Viktor Frankl so lovingly demonstrated, is our anchor during the storms of life, the stabilizing force that holds our focus through wind and rain by which all things are kept centered and well-balanced.
So, while we devote many things to life in the form of time, money, talents, and energy, are we keeping ourselves balanced in the way we demonstrate our innermost convictions and passions? More specifically, do we devote ourselves fully to our wives, our families, and our nation? In times such as these, when the world appears tilted, and our very freedoms seem to be teetering upon the same edge, what are we to do? Do we falter and fail in our commitments to be upright men in all things? Or, like Jacob of old, are we willing to serve seven more years as gift to our God, our country, and family as well as for our own "Rachel" because of the love we have for them [her]?
As mentioned earlier, love is the equally opposing force that helps center us in times of struggle and hardship. It propels us upward not downward, away from the brink of everlasting punishment and sorrow where "the Painted" mourn for all they could have been. Invariably, we must all face trouble, care, sorrow, and grief. It is how we face it, how we battle, how we stand the strain, that really counts. And if we have that loving someone to stand bravely by us, a peaceful sense of calm will fill our hearts as the long wave of conflict rises over us just as it did for Sullivan Ballou in 1861. Camped with his regiment in Camp Clark, Washington D.C., he wrote home to his wife, Sarah, under a moonlit sky on the eve of battle, unsure of its outcome but restored to confidence by his undying devotions for her, God, and country in what has become one of the most heartfelt and touching historical documents of our time. The letter writes:
"When the nation is passing through a crisis, it is only by loyally working together that the people emerge again into the sunlight of peace and prosperity. What is true of the nation is true of the family. There is a soul tonic in the pervading consciousness of a last resource in each other's devotion no matter how high the waves of sorrow may roll, or how threatening their foaming invasion. This is the spirit of pulling together through a crisis that leaves a golden trail of strange happiness in the memory of a vanquished sorrow that threatened to submerge us. When conditions are darkest it is no time for blame of either; it is the hour when each should forget self in seeking to inspire the other. When conditions are darkest, the lamp of love should be kept burning brightest."
History is replete with stories about love and its happy and tragic ends; unions given form in secret or in truth to the movement or stopping of an empire. Indeed, there is truly something to be said about this most powerful of human emotions and of its sweet tenderness that haloes us through our darkest moments. Reverently, we must give thanks to Him who, after blood and nail, made love what it really is - an infinite source for peace, hope, and deliverance. Love, then, is the key to heaven and the only means whereby men can truly be saved, both temporally and spiritually. In my opinion, a man's stature is only as large as his ability to love and the manner in which he chooses to convey such righteous passions. Indeed, the highest chivalry manifested toward another consists of many qualities and attributes seemingly unbecoming in today's world - honor, gentleness, courtesy, and faithfulness. Such righteous demonstrations are not easily put out in the same way a fervid glance of the Cross is never really forgotten. When expressed in its highest form, love's ardor can turn the tide of war, heal nations, mend families, and even overcome the pains of death as the widow of Nain experienced by the Savior's compassionate hand:
"And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people.
Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her.
And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not.
And he came and touched the bier: and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.
And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother." (Luke 7:11-17)
A true patriot and disciple of Christ is emboldened by love and upon the joy that comes from selfless service and affection for his neighbor and that of his countrymen, no matter the debt to be paid. I would imagine that the widow of Nain never faltered in her personal testimony of the Savior after witnessing the compassion He delivered her in the form of her live son. But had her confidence waned while on her widowed walk through life's thorny briers, when the tugging and scraping was at its sharpest, she had only to look upon her son to be reminded of God's perfect love. Oh how insignificant life's problems would become if, for a moment, we stopped to consider heaven's peace in the eyes of our own spouse. Such joy and understanding can only come to those who actively seek its venture. For this reason, true greatness is love and to speak of it consistently, in thought, word, and deed brings more light to the world than even the greatest star. And of greater measure, in terms of love and affection, can a man be closer to the gods than when he speaks warmly of his darling wife. Such deep devotion, as Viktor Frankl so lovingly demonstrated, is our anchor during the storms of life, the stabilizing force that holds our focus through wind and rain by which all things are kept centered and well-balanced.
So, while we devote many things to life in the form of time, money, talents, and energy, are we keeping ourselves balanced in the way we demonstrate our innermost convictions and passions? More specifically, do we devote ourselves fully to our wives, our families, and our nation? In times such as these, when the world appears tilted, and our very freedoms seem to be teetering upon the same edge, what are we to do? Do we falter and fail in our commitments to be upright men in all things? Or, like Jacob of old, are we willing to serve seven more years as gift to our God, our country, and family as well as for our own "Rachel" because of the love we have for them [her]?
As mentioned earlier, love is the equally opposing force that helps center us in times of struggle and hardship. It propels us upward not downward, away from the brink of everlasting punishment and sorrow where "the Painted" mourn for all they could have been. Invariably, we must all face trouble, care, sorrow, and grief. It is how we face it, how we battle, how we stand the strain, that really counts. And if we have that loving someone to stand bravely by us, a peaceful sense of calm will fill our hearts as the long wave of conflict rises over us just as it did for Sullivan Ballou in 1861. Camped with his regiment in Camp Clark, Washington D.C., he wrote home to his wife, Sarah, under a moonlit sky on the eve of battle, unsure of its outcome but restored to confidence by his undying devotions for her, God, and country in what has become one of the most heartfelt and touching historical documents of our time. The letter writes:
"My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more. Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure - and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing - perfectly willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows - when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children - is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me - perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours - always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children."
As we truly love, and give our full selves to our cherished wives and freedoms, then, like Jacob, will our many years of selfless service and unwavering devotion "seem unto us but a few days" because of the highest feeling we have had for them and for Him - always, always.
Long live the fighters...and lovers
As we truly love, and give our full selves to our cherished wives and freedoms, then, like Jacob, will our many years of selfless service and unwavering devotion "seem unto us but a few days" because of the highest feeling we have had for them and for Him - always, always.
Long live the fighters...and lovers
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