I've been writing this blog entry over the last 3 days and it has been an emotional journey. I hope that it blesses & encourages you and helps you to be thankful. Thank you for taking the time to read it.It's good to remember. This year has been one of lots of remembering. Some really not so good remembering. Some good remembering. Constant remembering of the goodness of God and His faithfulness. Even in the midst of the darkest moments God has always been faithful.
I guess this blog entry is pretty apt for the time of year with Remembrance Sunday being this coming Sunday (8th November). Remembrance Day has always been a big thing for me. This is down to my Grandma who was very involved in the local
British Legion in her part of Derbyshire. At her funeral her coffin was draped in a Union Jack and there were people from the
British Legion carrying various flags. So I guess you could say it was a big part of her life and it heavily influenced me.
My maternal grandparents were both involved in World War Two. My Grandad was in the army overseas, while my Grandma was stationed here in the UK. I never knew my Grandad. He died a few months after I was born but I'm thankful that I had the privilege of knowing my Grandma. I think she's probably where some of my stubborness comes from! :0) When we were asked at school to write an essay on someone in our family I chose my Grandad Taylor. My Grandad appeared to get around the world a bit with the army...India, North Africa and other far flung places. Talking with Grandma & having her write down her memories of him and the war was exciting as well as informative. I think this is where my passion has come from for remembering the sacrifices men & women have made for my freedom.
It also sparked a fascination with modern history and particularly with World War Two. A few years ago I went to Malta for a holiday and had a wonderful time not only relaxing but also visiting an underground bunker in Valletta where a command centre had been set up & used to plot major skirmishes in WW2. It really was fascinating! But I digress...stick with me...I think it'll be worth it.
Modern history...this was one of the reasons for deciding to go to Washington DC for a holiday this last September. The idea that I was going to visit somewhere that has nothing but modern history was absolutely thrilling for me. I will, at some point, blog about the whole trip but for now I'm just going to pick out 2 or 3 things to do with remembering that greatly impacted me.
I'm going to start with somewhere that I knew was going to be a hard place to go...
The Holocaust Museum. I'd prepared myself for seeing some things that would be hard to stomach...I had heard this museum is the best of it's kind for documenting the holocaust without actually going to a concentration camp. I knew from the moment the lift doors opened that it was going to be emotional.
The doors opened and I was faced with a huge photograph taken by American soldiers liberating Auschwitz of bodies charred & burned. Tears welled up so quickly...the thought of how evil it all was, the suffering so many endured, the families ripped apart.
Seeing a short documentary about the rise of anti-semitism...becoming angry when hearing the statement "the Christians first persecuted the Jews when they said we killed Jesus" and hearing that the Catholic Church renounced this 'theory' in the 1960s and the American Lutheran Church is 're-assessing' its views now too. I completely & wholeheartedly believe that the holocaust was pure evil and no people group should ever have to suffer like that. However, the Bible is so very, very clear about the death of Jesus. To hear of the church re-assessing its views really does make me mad because it's then saying that the Bible is wrong which also then leads to the church saying God got it wrong.
The silence of the museum...despite hundreds of people being in the building, it was silent. Was it out of respect or was it the sheer horror of what was being seen as we walked around?
The piles of shoes, suitcases, spectacles, hairbrushes, toothbrushes...realising that real people had worn & owned those items...and that they had more than likely been murdered
The railway carriage, or really the cattle truck, that had been used to transport so many to their death or to a life of abuse & experimentation. Standing silently in the middle of it thinking of all those who had been herded & crammed into it. Those who had died in it
Seeing & touching the 'bunk beds' from Auschwitz where so many had lain and suffered and died packed in beside one another
Then...an excerpt from my diary:
"Then I walked up to a grey concrete wall about a metre & a half in height. I realised this wall was to prevent children from seeing what I was about to see. Behind this wall was a small bank of 3 television screens showing footage of Mengle's supposed 'medical' experiments on those in the concentration camps. I may have been watching the screens for about 20 seconds when on came an image of emaciated young boys being experimented on. It has to be the most distressing image I have ever seen. Even now as I sit in my lounge almost 2 months after seeing it I could cry.
What is so distressing is that one of the boys looked just like my 10 year old nephew Joe. I recoiled in horror. Joe is one of my most favourite people in the whole world. He's such a good looking, kind hearted, loving boy. As I looked at that image on the screen I felt such intense pain. It was as if the boy on the screen was Joe. I wanted to jump in there and pull him out. Joe & all my nephews are by no means perfect but no young boy...as a matter of fact, no-one...deserves or should ever be treated the way Mengle treated those people. It is something I will never forget...ever.
I couldn't stay in the museum after that. I couldn't believe how upset I was and couldn't face anymore. If you're reading this and you have no other reason to take part in a Remembrance Day service on Sunday, then let what I saw be your reason to remember & to be thankful.
The second memory for now from my trip to DC is more, how can I put it...palatable.
The World War Two Memorial is a simple but very beautiful monument in Washington nestled between the Washington Monument and the Reflecting Pool. It has two pavilions called 'Atlantic' and 'Pacific' on either side of a beautiful fountain. On the walls around the structure are quotes beautifully carved into the them. High within each of the pavilions are four bronze eagles holding a bronze wreath. Interlinking the pillars which flank the two pavilions are bronze ropes intertwined. It really is a thing of beauty that I can't describe well enough. It has to be seen.
As I was coming to the end of my time at the memorial, I noticed a group of veterans had arrived. Some were walking, some in wheelchairs. They made their way through and around the memorial talking to one another, taking it in...remembering. As I watched them I began to think of my grandparents. I so wished that I had had the opportunity (that comes with age) to thank my Grandma for the part she & my Grandad played in World War Two...a part, however small, that helped battle the evil that tried to take over the world 70 years ago. I wondered about walking over to the veterans and thanking them but decided I would just look daft. They were Americans not Brits and of course it was just nuts to think about doing it.
I began my walk to the Lincoln Memorial which was to be my next stop. But I couldn't get out of my head the veterans, my grandparents and the fact that I have the freedom I have because of what they did and their willingness to fight for what is right. So, taking my nervousness, my pride...or more to the point my fear of looking & sounding like a fool...I headed back. I saw a couple of veterans looking out over the fountain and spent some time talking to them. They were lovely gentlemen who seemed pleased that someone...even a Brit...was willing to talk & listen to them. One had seen action & fought, the other had been serving in another capacity. Having the opportunity to thank them for all they did, all their fellow soldiers did, all those who sacrificed their lives, so that I can walk around and live in the freedom I have was not only very emotional but also a massive privilege. They didn't treat me like a 'nutter' or a fool. They treated me with respect. There were many highlights of my holiday to DC but this has to be the one that stands out the most and the one that I am most grateful for.
'FREEDOM IS NOT FREE'
This is a quote I read on the Korean War Memorial in DC and it's something that has written itself on my heart. In World War Two 59 million people died...6 million of those were Jews...so that I, we, can have the freedom to say what we say, do what we do, think what we think, believe what we believe, love who we love, walk where we walk. And there are still men & women giving their lives today in the fight against evil....5 British soldiers died just today in Afghanistan. I have so much to be thankful for and so many to say thank you to, most of whom I will never have the opportunity to do so.
More than that though, I have a spiritual freedom because of Jesus and His sacrifice for me. I am ever more grateful for that and for the fact that every day I can say thank you to Him and will be able to do so for eternity. That just blows me away as I think about it....
This Remembrance Sunday and Armistice Day on the 11th will be more poignant than ever before and I hope that I will never forget to say thank you.
I love being a blogger. Why? Because it helps me to process my thoughts as well as be more open. It's me coming out of hiding and putting my thoughts & opinions out there, as well as asking questions. Essentially, it's just for me but if it helps others along the way then that's an added bonus.
