As I reflect at the end of this Memorial Day, 2021, I can’t help but think of the fallen combatants and their loved ones with broken hearts. Books and Movies try to capture various aspects of what war is like, both in its glory and in its living hell. While I served in the Air Force, I never saw battle; I never had to see the carnage of companions falling around me, nor had to take the life of an enemy. Those who survive the war get to go on with life, though memories may haunt them. The fallen died, allowing others to have a life they never would experience. Yet, they think no more about this life, only what lies beyond. For those of us who remain, we suffer the loss of their companionship while living a life they couldn’t. Likewise, their loved ones go on deprived of their child or spouse or parent.
The real tragedy of those lost lives is so much more real to me now. While our younger son is a Marine Infantryman, the older passed tragically at 22 (noncombat). The emptiness is still fresh a year later, and the what-ifs still linger. It is easy to worry about our Marine that his life might be cut short as well. But worry is merely fear projected and accomplishes little to nothing. Yet, it is still there. War seems so senseless, though at times necessary because of the evil in men’s hearts. We throw away lives as if they are nothing, but as sure as there is a God in Heaven, every one of them is important to Him. Every one of us is important to Him. If this life is all there is, then I guess it may not matter in the end, but perhaps it’s not all there is. Perhaps there is something more important than this life, something that makes this life eternally meaningful. If this life is a mere staging ground for life to come, then it matters not how much time we get, but what we do with the time we have here on this earth.
Those men and women who died in combat were sacrificed, some willingly but most unwillingly, so we could live in peace and freedom. I am not sure I deserve their sacrifice, but I do not want it to be in vain. Similarly, the God of all sacrificed His son so that we might have an eternal life of peace and purpose. I know I don’t deserve it, nor have I earned it, yet the sacrifice has been made. Will I live my life in such a way that accepts and honors this sacrifice leading to an eternal life with the creator, or will I live a life that has no regard for the price that has been paid on my behalf? I appreciate the temporary peace in which the soldier has allowed me to live, but far more importantly, I seek to live for the one who offers eternal peace and comfort, where wars are no more.
David Matthews