Sunday, July 02, 2006

FREEDOM IS YOUD

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord,
all the earth: make a loud noise,
and rejoice, and sing praise.
-- Psalm 98:4

We used to live close to a big park where there’s always a huge Fourth of July fireworks show. We loved strolling over there as dusk was falling, and getting back home before most others had even reached their cars.

‘Course, the fireworks were so close and so loud, we’d get home and find the dog cowering in the bathtub, ears pinned back, all shook up.

It was about the same with our small children. We tried to explain the connection between Independence Day, the Revolutionary War, the Star Spangled Banner, celebrating freedom, and fireworks. But the significance was . . . ahem . . . over their heads.

No wonder. What fireworks represent -- rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air -- isn’t exactly the stuff of Sesame Street. Fireworks aren’t really for kids, anyway: they’re for those old enough to take fierce pride in the passions of freedom and the struggles that have preserved this God-given land. Struggles that, yes, have been noisy.

But one year, it got so loud, we had to leave the fireworks show early. They had introduced those big, big ones. You know them: you see the white ball flash high in the sky, and one heartbeat later, the world goes

BOOM!

. . . and boy, it’s a thrill. Except for little kids.

Our NeeNee, about 2, maxed out at the first big one. She leapt into my arms, burying her little blonde bowl-cut in my chest, nearly strangling me with her frightened hug.

“Oh, Mommy, Mommy,” she moaned. “The firecracks! The youd ones make my ears cry!”

She started to wail. It spread to her sisters. We high-tailed it out there, watching the show over our shoulders as we carried the sobbing children home.

But, you know, freedom isn’t quiet. It’s anything but. From the wars fought to win it, to the babble of the marketplace of ideas in our free society, freedom is a cacophony. Obtaining it in the first place is hard. Preserving it for ourselves and others can be chaotic. It’s scary. People get hurt. People get killed.

That’s the price of it. That’s the reality.

But oh, the fruits of freedom: being able to say what you think . . . worship as you please . . . elect leaders whose decisions affect your life . . . to protest and dissent as well as cheer and applaud.

You can live a quiet life in a peaceful country, alert but unafraid, thanks to the sweat and sacrifice of the generations of brave folks who earned it for you, in the noise that gives birth to liberty.

That’s worth more than a sedate prayer, as at Thanksgiving, or a sweet song, like a birthday party. That’s worth a

BOOM!

. . . or maybe 76 of them, in a row.

I’m sure the muskets were “youd” at Concord and Lexington and Bunker Hill.

The naval cannonball fire must have been deafening over Lake Erie in the War of 1812.

Thundering cavalry at Bull Run and Gettysburg . . . the early machine guns in the Argonne Forest of World War I . . . the hellish assaults of D-Day and Iowa Jima, not to mention Hiroshima and Nagasaki . . . those were all “youd,” too.

And the bombs that won Inchon in Korea . . . the choppers and air raids over Vietnam . . . the thundering jets of Desert Storm . . . the enormous engines of the B-52’s and sizzling F-18’s over Afghanistan . . . the laser whoosh of the cruise missiles and explosions of the minefields of Iraq . . . all these were “youd,” indeed.

But thank God for the noise. Thank God for the joy we have in our blessings, represented by the loud and colorful fireworks going up all over our country right now.

Yes, fireworks make your ears cry.

And your heart sing.

God bless America . . . say it “youd.” †

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Miles For Mali Update

Goal: Raise $5,600 and collect 5,600 miles of walking, running, biking and swimming in 56 days to help build a much-needed maternity hospital in Mali, Africa.

First week’s report: seven miles walked, $156 raised from people in Nebraska, Missouri and Pennsylvania. Thanks, guys! Much appreciated, and I’ll be praying for you and yours as I walk.

Eek, though! We have a long way to go. But I’m excited, because I have some plans for multiplying the receipts that I think will work. And I know kind and giving hearts are out there and are going to come through for the women and children of Mali:

Though thy beginning was small, yet thy latter end should greatly increase. – Job 8:7

Won’t you sponsor me for a dollar a day? Give up a candy bar or a cup of coffee each day so that women in Mali won’t die in childbirth as often, and their kids will have a better chance to live past age 5? Since I’m walking 56 miles, a dollar a day comes to $56 over eight weeks. Think back on childbirth experiences you or a loved one had, and decide if you want to express your gratitude for the blessings of good medical care by helping to provide it for the poorest of the poor in West Africa.

Please send checks made out to Christ Community Church to:
Susan Williams, P.O. Box 995, Elkhorn, NE 68022. Deadline: Aug. 20.
Donations tax-deductible; you will receive a letter for your files. THANK YOU!!!

Learn more at:
www.themaliproject.org or www.christcommunityomaha.org

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