Think Faith

Last summer we went to Bellevue’s Fourth of July fireworks display.  I thought it was a blast, and Will (2 years old at the time) loved it, too.  Tonight we went back to Bellevue for the annual Singing Christmas Tree.  It, too, was a top-notch performance.

In fact, I just felt like crying for no apparent reason on several occasions.  I had happy, fulfilling memories of my theatrical experiences.  I looked at my daughters in front of me and imagined them experimenting with music and theater someday.  I was moved by the excellence with which the production clearly strove to accomplish.  It made me want to pursue excellence in my own music.

So in the midst of this evocative experience, my three year son holds up a Bellevue registration card with a picture of a cross on it and exclaims, “Fireworks!”  I smiled, but deep inside I cherished that moment and was determined to lock-in that memory.

My son associates the cross of Jesus Christ with fireworks!

Obviously, he doesn’t understand, and there was no underlying meaning to his words.  However, it got me thinking:

When’s the last time I went to the foot of the cross and saw fireworks?

by his daughter Karen K. Spooner

The following journal entry was written by Pvt. John W. Kellogg in Dec. 1944 in Belgium.

“The morning of Dec. 17th or 18th, memory fails me as to date, I found myself alone with three buddies on the east side of a swift moving stream in the Ardennes, near Clerveau. It had been an exceedingly tough night. The remnants of our battalion had fought all day in a small village east of Clervaux and we had finally been pushed out of the village into the meadow beyond where we dug in for what the morning might bring. The line such as it was had gone far beyond us and as far as we knew we were an isolated unit. We expected nothing but to fight until the end whatever that might be. The outlook was anything but heartening. The village we had just left was but a mass of flame. God knows whatever became of the villagers. The last I saw of them they were all huddled in the basement of the last house in the village. They weren’t a bad bunch. I only hope that when I can look into the face of utter ruin I can be as stoical as they.

To get back to my story : The terrain was fairly well-lighted from the flames of the village and it was possible to see our outfit digging in for quite some distance. We had dug our machine guns in on the perimeter and Johnny Zero, my buddy and I had dug a slit trench nearby and failed it with straw to lie on. We stood guard on the guns for quite some time. When we considered our duty was about up, I endeavored to find our relief. It was quite a job as the ground was covered with slit trenches and the platoons and companies pretty well intermingled. We finally found our relief and them retired to our own private slit trench. Johnny had left his coat with our jeep which was back in the burning village, as were our packs, so my overcoat had to cover the two of us. It had been two nights since I had had any sleep and now I can’t remember whether I dropped off or not, but I recall Lieutenant Mason, our platoon leader telling us to knock our gun down and load it on the jeep of H company and to round up the rest of our boys. As we were pulling out, finding the boys was a difficult job but I know all of our squad was there. The boys burrowed so in the……..”

After about 10 days avoiding the enemy behind the German lines, Pvt. Kellogg was taken prisoner and place in a POW camp. They were forced to march from camp to camp, in snow and wet. John had no overshoes as he had traded them earlier for a loaf of bread. He suffered from frost bitten feet. It was February 22, 1945 when my mother, Margery, received word from him that he was a POW. On April 5th she received a letter saying the Allies had freed him. He reported later that he had been left behind when the Germans fled the coming Allies as he was too ill to walk. He was transferred to a hospital in Liege, Belgium, where he weighed 125 pounds and had pneumonia. Unable to walk, he eventually was able to move about a little in a wheelchair. On May 13th he wrote he was able to take a few steps and on May 30, he was transferred to a hospital in Paris before being shipped to the U.S. He then spent several months in Rhodes Hospital in Utica before returning home to Adams Center.

I was only two when my dad returned home. My brother, Dave, was three. It had been a rough year for my mother and dad’s family. The winter had been terrible; food and gas were scarce. However, nothing was as bad as the winter my father had endured. He had dreamed of banana cream pie and homemade meals. He worried about his brothers and brothers-in-law who were still involved in the war. The people of Adams Center and area prayed for all their men who were serving their country. Some made it home, some didn’t. Those who came home were glad to be there as they struggled to put their lives back together.

Dad was a lawyer and eventually went back to Watertown to practice. I remember many nights when he would come home from work and make the rounds of Adams Center visiting widows, making sure they didn’t need anything. In 1974 when he passed away, we received many calls and letters and people stopping by asking what they owed Dad for legal work he had done for them. My mother would smile and say they owed nothing. Dad left no bills for many folks. He was just glad to be able to serve –first his country, then those who needed his help at home.

I never heard Dad say a bad word about anyone. He never spoke ill about the Germans. He was a proud American. On this Veterans Day, let us remember those who have served
this country and those who serve it now to protect our country and to make a better world for all the peoples of the world. God Bless America!

Last night I had a dream.  It was an odd but sobering dream, and it’s worth sharing.

In my dream I got up to go to church early to setup chairs for the service.  When I got there the chairs were missing.  I looked all around the church, but I could not find them anywhere.  One of the elders said to go look in the back and so I did, but no sign of them.  When I came back to tell the elder, all the chair were setup.

The odd thing about them is that the back rows were facing the side of the church, and there was a bride in her wedding gown ready to walk down the aisle.  The front rows were correctly facing the pulpit.

I sat down to hear the preacher speak, and he seemed upset.  He said that he was supposed to officiate a wedding today but that he received new information about the groom that changed his mind about marrying the two.  Behind him on the screen he started to show a video of the groom as he behaved when he thought nobody was looking.  It was disturbing.  I felt uncomfortable peering into the private life of the groom.  He was clearly a different person outside the church.

The pastor said, “I cannot marry these two.  The groom has proven that he is not worthy of the bride.”

In front of me this one guy kept looking to the back of the church.  Upon closer inspection it was the groom, longing to be with the bride.  But he did not stand up and protest.  The video told no lies.  The wedding was called off.

After I woke up, I did go to the church and setup chairs.  Nothing missing.  But I had time to think about the dream.

When Christ returns, many of us will think that we are worthy enough to be carried across the threshold of His Heavenly home along with His Bride, but when the Father of the Groom stands to judge each one of us according to our thoughts, words and deeds what will the video show?  Do we honestly think that we are worthy enough?

The apostle Paul explained our predicament and the final solution like this:

For no one can ever be made right in God’s sight by doing what his law commands.  For the more we know God’s law, the clearer it becomes that we aren’t obeying it.

But now God has shown us a different way of being right in his sight–not by obeying the law but by the way promised in the Scriptures long ago.  We are made right in God’s sight when we trust in Jesus Christ to take away our sins.  And we all can be saved in this same way, no matter who we are or what we have done.

For all have sinned; all fall short of God’s glorious standard.  Yet now God in his gracious kindness declares us not guilty.  He has done this through Christ Jesus, who has freed us by taking away our sins.  For God sent Jesus to take the punishment for our sins and to satisfy God’s anger against us.  We are made right with God when we believe that Jesus shed his blood, sacrificing his life for us.  God was being entirely fair and just when he did not punish those who sinned in former times.  And he is entirely fair and just in this present time when he declares sinners to be right in his sight because they believe in Jesus.

Can we boast, then, that we have done anything to be accepted by God?  No, because our acquittal is not based on our good deeds.  It is based on our faith.  So we are made right with God through faith and not by obeying the law.

(Romans 3:20-28)

If you recognize that you are not worthy because of your sins, and if you believe that Jesus shed His blood for you, then by faith you shall be saved.  You will be joined to Christ along with the rest of His Bride, and one day He will carry you across the threshold of His Heavenly home.  Take this moment to call on Jesus.  Believe in Him, and you will find rest for your soul.