Wednesday, August 22, 2012

He Places the Fatherless in Families

I was catching up on one of my favorite blogs tonight, and came across this post.  Another young orphan out there is in need of your prayer!  Will you join me in praying that a loving family will step up for Chad?





He will turn 16 in eight months, at which point he'll age out of the system and become unadoptable.  :-(  A complete post about him can be found here: http://1blessing2another.blogspot.com/2012/08/chad.html 

Monday, August 20, 2012

The Eloquence of Faithfulness

I've been devoting some time lately to the study and contemplation on the reasons for the American Civil War.  While that could be a fascinating discussion, what I want to share is something else that I came across while watching a documentary on the subject.

It's a letter written by a soldier to his wife before entering a battle, from which he had no assurance of return.  What struck me most about this letter is how much he loved her, his steadfast spirit, and his trust that God's will would be done. 

I wish we still communicated this way.  It is something beautiful.  Something so much more meaningful, more thoughtful, more careful than our words often are now...  There is something wonderful about a real, handwritten letter. 





July the 14th, 1861
Washington DC

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 O 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 his and hers I call God's blessing upon them.  O Sarah, I wait for you there!  Come to me, and lead thither my children.

Sullivan


Sullivan Ballou was killed a week later in the first Battle of Bull Run.  His wife of nearly six years, never married again.  She lived to be 80 years old, and was buried next to Sullivan when she died in 1917.

I wonder, has our character changed?  Is that why we don't communicate like this?  Is that why so few love like this?  I know brokenness and sin have existed since the fall, and there is nothing new under the sun.  But I wonder...have we become too caught up in the unimportant?  Too rushed?  Too absorbed in things that aren't lasting?  Are we in a hurry, but not really getting anywhere worth going?

I'm speaking to myself when I say that I think perhaps we need to slow down...learn to savor the people God has placed in our way.  Get outside of our little self-absorbed worlds, open our hearts, and love.  Love people.  Those souls we come in contact with every day are what will last in this world, that's where our investment should be.  

Maybe we should take time today to write a letter....