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I’ve always liked the story of the 3 old widows who lived together. One sister got up to go to bed, half way up the stairs she stopped and asked "was I going up or was I coming down"
One sister replied with hint of aggravation, "you were going up to bed."
A second sister headed into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. Once in the kitchen she hollered back to her sister who was still down stairs; "what did I come in here for"
The sister responded again with a trace of irritation, "you went in to make yourself a sandwich" after which she said; "I’m so glad I am not as forgetful as the both of you are" as she knock on the end table.
And then she got up and walked over to the door and said "Who is it?"
Yes, we are a forgetful people. And from my vast experience I have concluded that forgetfulness is not a respecter of age. And there fore we come up with all kinds of ways to help us remember; (string around finger; post it notes, day planners, memory courses). And most of us do need a little help to remember.
The Taj Mahal is one of the most beautiful and costly tombs ever built, but there is something fascinating about its beginnings. In 1629, when the favorite wife of Indian ruler Shah Jahan died, he ordered that a magnificent tomb be built as a memorial for her. The shah placed his wife’s casket in the middle of a parcel of land, and construction of the temple literally began around it. But several years into the venture, the Shah’s grief gave way to a passion for the project. One day while he was surveying the sight, he reportedly stumbled over a wooden box, and he had some workers throw it out. It was months before he realized that his wife’s casket had been destroyed. The original purpose for the memorial became lost in the details of construction.
Dr. James Dobson, Coming Home, Timeless Wisdom for Families, (Tynadale House Pub., Wheaton; 1998), 122.
IN A FEW DAYS WE WILL CELEBRATE MEMORIAL DAY. It was unofficially begun by women of the South during the Civil War when they placed flowers over the graves of the “men in gray.”
In 1868, General John A. Logan, Commander-in-Chief of the Grand Army of the Republic, issued an order officially setting aside May 30 as “Decoration Day.” It has now become an occasion on which we remember not only those who have fallen in war, but all our dead veterans.
A few years ago a wall was built in Washington D.C. and on it were inscribed the names of the thousands who had died in the Vietnam War, perhaps the most controversial war in our nation’s history. But regardless of what people thought about that war, this wall memorial reminds us that thousands of Americans sacrificed their lives in that far-off place.
Most of them were young people who wanted to hold on to life. Their names are on that wall. One of them was a young man from one of the families in my home church---a wonderful Christian family. I’ll never forget standing beside his coffin as he was buried with military honors.
All of us owe these young men and women a great debt. Down through the years, in many wars, millions have sacrificed their lives for the cause of freedom, so it is fitting for us to remember them as a nation.
I recall watching a video on the news that was profound in its message. Someone had taped a man standing next to the Vietnam Memorial. His right hand was extended to the wall and he was gently caressing someone’s name that was etched into that wall. It was very moving. Over and over again, he repeated these words: “He died for me. He died for me.” Was it a brother? A father? A friend? We’ll never know. But one thing is for certain---the man was visibly moved by the sacrifice of one man!
Just a few years ago, while living in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, I had the opportunity to visit the “traveling wall.” Did you know that there are two smaller versions of the one in Washington that travel throughout the United States? This enables citizens who cannot travel to D.C. to experience the sensations that arise when you stand beside this most unusual mobile monument. Once again, I found Dick’s name among the thousands and stood silently, pondering his sacrifice. And that experience set me to thinking.
Each time we enter a church we must remember another sacrifice. We must erect a monument in our mind. For yo...
