1 Corinthians 6:20
You were bought
at a price
Therefore, honor God with your body.
Considering others. Considering the needs of the many.
My Brother John gave me the gift of going to Washington DC for my birthday.
He brought my niece along with us. We walked everywhere, and John's phone told him one day we walked 18 miles. Every day we traveled far. We saw just about everything. We'd been in Washington, D.C. for a few days, and we went to Arlington Cemetery to find our Great, great Uncle Artells Elliott.
My Grandmother told us so many stories of her Army Uncle, we felt we had just about met Artells. Every visit was like a gift and Artells would come from all areas of the earth. The Military had always been Artells' passion, and he'd been once expelled from VMI for smoking cigarettes at the wrong time. Artells was understood to have lived a vivid life, with colorful experiences. He'd brought home one of the first German Police Dogs as a gift for the family. Cop. The dog we have photos of, ninety years later. Even the dog's history and life have times there were unhappy consequences. Because the stories are real.
Artells had been an assistant to General Patton. He and Patton got on very, very well. And one day he followed Patton into a hospital to see injured soldiers and Patton encountered what he considered failure to do the man's best. Letting down those depending on him. General Patton struck a soldier with PTSD. The General had had a magnificent career and Artells was soon being reassigned due to Presidential removal of the General. Even illustrious careers and bravery have consequences, when self conflicts with Gracious Duty. Artells was loyal to Patton, but he did agree the slapping and the humiliation was over the top.
We were earnest and serious the day we got to Arlington Cemetery.
We watched the Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier several times. We knew other family had attempted to find Artells and the cemetery isn't the most easily navigated due to the intense size. John said today we weren't going home until we found Artells. We were on foot again and my foot decided to have a blister rub on the top of my foot to the shoe. I tried limping to avoid the raw patch. Suddenly, I knew this was the time to take my shoes off and walk or ruin the rest of the trip.
The roads are narrow in Arlington Cemetery. Carriage and hearse width.
Beautifully cared for and astonishingly well paved and smooth. Not terribly well-marked for destination. So soon, I was barefoot and my shoes were in my hands. We didn't run into too many people, hence making it more difficult to find Artells. And we walked all over Arlington, and everyone we met said to me, “Thank you for removing your shoes. What a great idea.” Pretty soon all three of us were replying, “Well, it's a Blister, but, yes we see the point.” This began to generate conversation as we walked and ran into other people just as serious at Arlington Cemetery. And one man said, “I know what you are saying about Blisters, but I'm removing my shoes too.” And another couple did too. And then my niece did. My brother and I did agree that it was rather embarrassing a blister should cause a beautiful reaction when the case started out being necessity.
We finally found Artells and had help after frustration.
A man said he comes out a lot to see both his father and grandfather. And he helped us. By the time we reached Artells, we were dehydrated, tired, warm, serious, intent, determined, a little embarrassed to be lost, and to have so many comments. We found Artells and touched his tombstone. And all of us were misty. A lot of our family has done military service, and like Artells, survived. In that age, long ago, there were only letters from amazing places and our great, great-grandmother so missed her only sibling. His letters brought home Japan, Europe, World War II. The dog who took his place as he served the Nation. Later German Police Dogs would be renamed German Shepherds.
We were proud of our rough and tumble Great, Great Uncle.
We could put our hands on long, lost family history. And my brother urged us to put our shoes on for the photo. He said it's just not 'us' to wander around barefoot and this is, “Artells.”
John was right. Artells knew he wasn't, “all that”. Artells may have been "Best of the Best" for the tough military men. But in an age of no divorce, Artells was divorced and his children had moved around and past him. He'd been extremely glad, while being in the Veteran's Hospital, at the end of his life, to have great nephews who would travel far to see him, “Off”. My father was a young man to go and pay duty like this. Everyone wept talking about the end of Artells. A good man had served. There had been costs. In fact, Artells children had become the unknowns by their own deliberation.
Ahab. We are all Ahab. The Scriptures tell us no one is good. Jesus explains only God is Good.
The Pride we had in Artells was for the man who held the Line. The Law. The Freedoms. No one out at Arlington Cemetery is out there lightly. The quick and the dead. They died to give us our Freedom. To be part of Republic history rarely sees. The Choice found in Freedom.
One man, one vote.
Binding and Building.
Abba, Father!
And in Jesus - this Hope,
Faith and Love - we will rise up believing Jesus.
Amen.
♔ Lord Jesus Saves †
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