Independence Day Brings Echoing Strains of Taps

By Dianne E. Butts –

The Fourth of July brings many images to mind as we celebrate our independence and the founding of our beloved country. The rocket’s red glare. Bombs bursting in air. Or today’s edition of those images: fireworks.

American flags fluttering from houses. Parades. Veterans. Everything patriotic. God and country.

Not far from our thoughts are many, many veterans who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom. If we are still and listen carefully, we can hear echoing through time or our thoughts or a not too distant cemetery, the familiar strains of “Taps.”

A lone bugler stands over a funeral and puffs out the song perfectly. Military personnel stand at attention. A flag is draped over the casket. Hands cover hearts. A tear comes to every eye.

We’ve all heard it. We may even sing along the familiar tune and the first few words: Day is done. Gone the sun…

But beyond that, do you know the words? Did you know there are actually several verses to “Taps”? Here are the surprisingly comforting words to this familiar “funeral song”:

“Taps”

Day is done, gone the sun,

From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;

All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

 

Go to sleep, peaceful sleep,

May the soldier or sailor, God keep.

On the land or the deep, Safe in sleep.

 

Fading light, dims the sight,

And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.

From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.

 

Thanks and praise, for our days,

‘Neath the sun, ‘neath the stars, ‘neath the sky;

As we go, this we know, God is nigh.

 

Sun has set, shadows come,

Time has fled, Scouts must go to their beds.

Always true to the promise that they made.

 

While the light fades from sight,

And the stars gleaming rays softly send,

To thy hands we our souls, Lord, commend.

 

(As found on http://www.countrygoldusa.com/taps.asp, May 28, 2007.)

Tell Your Story

By Candace McQuain  –

Everyone has a story. Our story is what makes us who we are, who we have been and who we will become. Each moment in our life has been specifically choreographed, the highs, the lows and everything in between. We are placed in situations and circumstances so we can learn from them and not make the same mistakes over and over again. The thing with living though, is that we seem to choose to do it so quickly. We skim over important moments and special occasions just to get to the next one. We miss so much. One of the most powerful things we can do is to examine where we have been and where we ultimately want to go. We need to tell our story and the person we need to tell it to is the same person who has been our choreographer. Are you scratching your head and asking, “Why would we need to tell our story to the ultimate story maker?” Read on, you’ll soon see why.

When it came time for me to write my story Jesus had me write in detail how I strayed from Him, why I strayed and what I did to others and myself during that time of disobedience.  As I dug through my memory vault attempting to recall events in my life in order to document them, I found myself laughing, crying, asking for forgiveness and many times finally taking responsibility for my behavior.

Documenting my story was a gut wrenching, but truly rewarding experience. You see, you don’t always know how you have affected the world around you until you examine what you have done in it. When the effort was all said and done, I pulled back from my computer stared at my words for a while, careful to not change a thing, and then I simply saved the file and knew I was forgiven for everything I had just wrote. I had a clean slate. Hebrews 8:12(NIV) solidifies that, “For I will forgive [your] wickedness and will remember [your] sins no more.”

I’m positive that if I hadn’t taken the initiative to tell my story I would still be holding on to my sin and would have never really been completely free to accept Jesus into my heart…for good.

When it’s finally laid upon your heart to tell your story, know that Jesus has been with you down every path you have taken in life. He’s been with you every step of the way. Understand that He never lets go. He may lengthen the leash quite a bit at times, but He does that to see what kind of decisions we’ll make and how we will react in certain situations. When we don’t react the way He intended us to, He doesn’t love us any less, He just wants us to shake it off, look to Him for forgiveness and walk with Him again.

So tell your story! You have a very interested listener waiting.

Friends for Life

By Pam Kumpe –

Manuela sat across the lobby from me at work. She was a temperamental argumentative type of person (not with me) so many folks didn’t even try to get to know her. Most just stayed out of her way.

Our friendship took place in California (when I was in my 20s) at a fast-paced bank near the airport, close to the beach. With all the people and traffic it was easy to get lost in a crowd, but for whatever reason I liked Manuela.

I was drawn to her, and yes, she was quirky and different—didn’t fit the mold, kind of like me. We took our 15-minute breaks and lunches on a set schedule, and with short spurts together for snacks and meals, she and I became friends during our time in the kitchen.

Eventually, we started to eat lunch outside the office, strolling through beach city boutiques followed by our grabbing sandwiches. We laughed, talked and bonded, becoming closer each day.

At first we lived near each other, I lived in a condo, and she lived around the corner in a brand new house, thus her desire to look inside shops, especially those which had rugs and house décor.

Toward the end of our first year as friends, I moved inland buying a home about an hour from work. Putting in for a transfer, I drove back and forth to the office, waiting to hear about my re-assignment.

Finally it came through, and I said goodbye to everyone at the bank, while making preparations to start at another branch office.

I realized I had not given Manuela my new phone number, so I jotted it down for her. I only had a land line, but I knew that I wanted to keep our friendship alive; I didn’t want the distance to keep us apart.

On the very day I wrote down the digits on a piece of paper, I had no idea that a sequence of numbers would lead to another sequence filled with pain, horror, death and murder.

For on that day—after the phone number exchange—tragedy rolled in like a tsunami hitting the beach. It changed everything, especially in regard to my faith and how I lived it out.

On Saturday morning, my phone rang; the sound on the ringer beeping, so I answered it. The voice on the phone said words which tore at my heart, as a horrible piece of news shocked my world.

Why couldn’t it be a dream? Why her? Who would do such a thing? Murder? Not to my friend? This couldn’t be happening.

The nightmare turned into a wave of suffocation, much like a rip tide of despair and it pulled me under. I had so many questions, and I was overwhelmed with sadness, doubt and tears, trying to sort through the details.

For you see, someone had gone into Manuela’s house at her back door. A serial killer left her for dead. But at one point, she must have been struggling to live, holding on, because she grabbed the piece of paper with my phone number on it.

She had held the number in her palm. Had she tried to call me? Would she have lived if I’d gotten the call? Did she even get to dial one digit?

Manuela’s death became one of the saddest days in my life, because I never once shared my faith with her. I never once talked about God’s love for her. I didn’t even know what she believed about God.

This weighed on my heart, because we could have been friends for life, ready for an eternal shopping spree in heaven.

Life rushes in, and it can be taken away in the blink of an eye, before the night gives way to the next sunrise.

So for all the Manuelas who are lost in a crowd—for anyone wandering around in the boutique of life—God is looking for you. He’s the hope for your life. You matter. You are important. He holds you in His palm even if you think He’s forgotten your phone number.

That’s good news because the Lord says in Jeremiah 33:3, “Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.”

So dial His number. Check in. And stay awhile. God wants to be friends for life.

Failing Fast

By Lori Freeland  –

A lone piece of pizza taunted me from the cardboard box. A perfect triangle of hot and greasy heaven—mozzarella browned just so. I sidestepped the mouth-watering heap of cheese and pepperoni and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl.

“Hey,” I yelled to the kids. “Someone come eat this pizza!”

No one came.

I peeled the banana, shoved it in my mouth, and waited a minute or two for the sound of pounding footsteps on the stairs.

The only sound came from my nails as I clicked them against the white Formica countertop, inches from the pizza box. I wandered around the kitchen, gliding past that last slice of pizza for at least another thirty seconds before grabbing the delicious, gooey pile of Pizza Hut mastery and devouring it.

Nineteen days of self-denial gone in less than a minute.

I’d like to say the pizza sat like a rock in my stomach, but it didn’t. I’d like to say I regretted eating it, but I didn’t. Heaven from the first bite—the tangy sauce danced in my mouth—the richness of the browned cheese tantalized my tongue and warmed my stomach.

How sad to trade twenty-one days of the Daniel Fast for a piece of pizza that took twenty seconds to inhale. Did my moment of weakness undo the other nineteen days? Or the TV I’d given up? Did it negate the prayers seeking God’s blessing over my writing?

Guilt slammed me. What a loser—I couldn’t even make it two more days. Deflated, I curled up on my bed and hugged my pillow.

I had given up sugar, meat, dairy, coffee, and hours of DVR. Despite the natural, healthy food and the extra hours of sleep, I felt awful. And further from God than ever.

As I cried, curled up under the covers, a verse played through the soundtrack in my head. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened…and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29 NIV).

It’s not about the food. It’s about Me. Giving up food and TV pushed you into the arms of books and friends when you were supposed to run to Me with your burdens. Not to other things.

As God whispered truth into my heart, the tears stopped running down my cheeks, and I realized my whole perspective had been off. I hadn’t understood the real reason for the fast.

“Lord,” I whispered,”I’m sorry about the pizza. Help me remember You made me to need You. Help me to run to You first because You are the only One who will truly satisfy.”

Hidden

By Heather Arbuckle –

An over-scheduled weekend was behind us and bedtime was fast approaching. With Marty at a business dinner, I was outnumbered 3 to 1, and in the middle of my best delivery of zone defense. Hoping to clean the kitchen and still maintain our regular bedtime routine, I sent the kids into the den to watch a little TV.

Moments later, my middle daughter, Lily, emerged with a perplexed look on her sweet face. Immediately, I stopped what I was doing as tears began to fill her big brown eyes. As I listened to her heart, I realized bedtime was going to have to be briefly postponed. A teachable moment was upon me, and the world would not wait.

Rather than the “innocent” programming I anticipated on a children’s network we watch regularly, my children had come upon a show about the world’s differing religious views. “How can they not know Jesus, Mommy? How do they not see?” Lily asked in pained bewilderment. As her words penetrated my heart, I was gently reminded that “your eye is the lamp of your body.” (Luke 11:34) Lily’s faith-filled eyes see her beautiful Savior so easily. How I wish it were so for us all. Sadly, that is not the case.

By now my two other gifts from Heaven had joined us, and all eyes were on me. I took my children into my arms, grateful that God had chosen me to be the one to lead them to the Cross. Each of them accepted Christ as their Savior at an early age. None of my precious children can recall a time when Jesus wasn’t a trusted friend on whom they could call. His love has never been hidden from their lives.

Hoping to speak some perspective into my troubled child’s heart, I spoke gently and prayed for wisdom. “Lily, sweetheart. This is a family who believes and truth is all around you. Scripture teaches us that Jesus is the only way to eternal life, and that the gift of grace is ours to receive freely.” I continued, “Never forget that even when Jesus walked among us, there were few who could truly see their Savior in their midst. Sometimes life gets too dark for some to see.”

For some, the truth is hidden. It was true then. It is still true today. The Bible teaches us “When your eyes are good, your whole body also is full of light. But when they are bad, your body also is full of darkness. See to it, then, that the light within you is not darkness.” (Luke 11:35-36) Jesus Christ, alone, is the light that leads the way to salvation. Still, many do not see.

Today, our world is growing ever darker as all of creation groans in the fallout of sin. This world is broken. By poverty. Injustice. Greed. Pride. It is a world gripped by the consequences of sin. As Christ followers, we must have eyes to see the world as it is. But, then we must have courage to share the love of Christ with those whom the truth remains hidden. For “blessed are your eyes because they see.” (Matthew 13:16)

Heavenly Father,
We praise You for the gift of eyes that see truth. Because of Christ alone, we are free to approach you boldly, as your adopted sons and daughters. Let us have compassion and patience with those who are blind to the Son. Give us courage to share the truth about who Christ is, so that others may see.
-Amen

Reflection: Is there someone in your midst from whom the truth is hidden?

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