[ORIGINALLY WRITTEN NOVEMBER 9, 2009]
Sober,
silent, and thoughtful, I sat listening to the humble resonance of the
guitar under a tent at the State Fair. Most of the crowd had dispersed
long ago, it being a weekday night, and the remaining few were quietly
concentrated on the rich voice of an Irishman as he sang of America and
the undying sacrifices of the brave men who fought for her.
My eyes filled with tears. How many worlds away have the American people strayed from the Founders’ understanding of liberty! What has happened to the caliber of the men of 1776, who so manfully gave their fortunes, their homes, and even their very lives that generations yet unborn could be free? We can be certain that many of them obtained no reward for their incalculable sacrifices. How many of their children became fatherless, and for what? That we may be free, and yet how careless are we with our liberties, allowing the government to steal them away, one by one, until we are nothing more than slaves to the government’s whims! And instead of passing on liberty to our children, as those men did, we pass on more regulations, more laws, more taxes, and fewer freedoms. Why has our government strayed so far from its original purpose? No longer are men willing to rise up and proclaim, “Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains or slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God!”
All these thoughts ran through my mind as the melodious strains continued and the silent tears fell fast. My Daddy was different. He was one of the few men that was an exception in this generation. He had no fear of death, and was always zealous in the cause of liberty. But what about me? Am I willing to sacrifice for generations yet unborn who may not appreciate my sacrifices? Will I actively fight for my God-given rights or will I weakly surrender them to a tyrannical government?
I have since remembered the words of Paul:
My eyes filled with tears. How many worlds away have the American people strayed from the Founders’ understanding of liberty! What has happened to the caliber of the men of 1776, who so manfully gave their fortunes, their homes, and even their very lives that generations yet unborn could be free? We can be certain that many of them obtained no reward for their incalculable sacrifices. How many of their children became fatherless, and for what? That we may be free, and yet how careless are we with our liberties, allowing the government to steal them away, one by one, until we are nothing more than slaves to the government’s whims! And instead of passing on liberty to our children, as those men did, we pass on more regulations, more laws, more taxes, and fewer freedoms. Why has our government strayed so far from its original purpose? No longer are men willing to rise up and proclaim, “Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains or slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God!”
All these thoughts ran through my mind as the melodious strains continued and the silent tears fell fast. My Daddy was different. He was one of the few men that was an exception in this generation. He had no fear of death, and was always zealous in the cause of liberty. But what about me? Am I willing to sacrifice for generations yet unborn who may not appreciate my sacrifices? Will I actively fight for my God-given rights or will I weakly surrender them to a tyrannical government?
I have since remembered the words of Paul:
“But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself” (Acts 20:24).
“I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ” (Phil. 3:8).
“Yes,”
was my determined resolve by the time the song faded into silence. The
audience stood and clapped heartily amid admiring whistles. Then the
applause died and Brent turned to go, and I suddenly became ashamed of
my tears, saying softly as an excuse, “That song made me cry.” We had
already begun walking away by the time Brent looked at me. “That song
really did make you cry,” he said. He drew me close and put his arm
around me. Aren’t brothers wonderful?
