“Find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground…”
Stephen Stills
It’s Memorial Day weekend and plans for celebration coming
together across America. Briskets are in smokers, hot dogs are on grills, beers
are on ice and rowdy friends are coming over. Tuesday morning we’ll know how
much we overspent on the party. But will we know the cost of the stories
written to be celebrated this Memorial Day?
That cost cannot be measured in trillions of dollars like
the nation’s financial debt. It is measured in fathers, mothers, sons, and
daughters. It was paid in sisters, and brothers—in grandfathers and
grandmothers. It is measured in millions of stark white gravestones the world
over. And when we have tried to measure the cost of freedom, we succeed only in
finding that it cannot truly be counted.
Party like a rock star this weekend. Your right to do so has
been paid for in blood. No government mandate gave that right to you and none
can take it away from you. To let that happen is to tarnish the names of those
who paid the last full measure of freedom. You’ll find what they paid buried in
the ground. So, before the party starts think about those names on the small
white stones. If you can go, see them, that is the place to say, “Thank You for
Your Service”. Stand at their graves and weep for lives too short and love too
soon taken away. Those tears that memory calls up, and that gratitude lets flow
are the true celebration of Memorial Day.
Maranatha
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