By Dianne Neal Matthews
Guest Writer

CBN.com - Memorial Day, formerly known as Decoration Day, was instituted to honor Civil War dead. Local observances were held as early as 1866, many of them in the South where most of the war dead were buried. The first official and large observance took place on May 30, 1868, at Arlington National Cemetery, which held the remains of twenty thousand Union soldiers and several Confederate dead. Five thousand people attended the ceremony.

New York was the first state to declare the holiday, in 1873; other states quickly followed. After World War I, citizens expanded the observances to honor those who died in all American wars. In 1971, Congress declared Memorial Day a national holiday and changed the date to the last Monday in May. In recent years, many use the occasion to decorate the graves of loved ones.

Under God's direction, the Israelites had "Memorial Day" celebrations to help them remember major events in their history. They celebrated Passover each year to commemorate their miraculous deliverance from slavery in Egypt. When Jesus ate His last Passover meal, He instituted a new memorial to commemorate the deliverance from slavery to sin that He would accomplish for all believers through His death. As He shared the bread and wine with His disciples, He instructed them to eat and drink in remembrance of Him.

The speaker at the first official Memorial Day service urged the audience to tend the graves of the dead soldiers to testify that our country had not forgotten the cost of a free, undivided republic. When we take part in the Lord's Supper we are testifying that we remember the cost of our salvation. We are celebrating a "Memorial Meal" in honor of the One who won the war against death and sin.

[Jesus told his disciples,] "Do this to remember me." (Luke 22:19)

Hope you all have a great Memorial Day weekend and remember to remember those in the military, past and present, and those particularly who are in the Middle East, for their safety, protection, good health, and 'feeling' our undying gratitude and our prayers.  The following is a 'daily thought' from MountainWings, and it says it all.  

 

Have a blessed day.. Take care & keep praying.

Maggie

 

_________________________________________________________ 

Scott got to church early to get a good seat for the Christmas
service.  He found a seat up against the aisle, and settled in.
People were starting to file in wearing their Sunday finery when
he remembered his cell phone was on.  Just as he started to cut
it off, John walked up with a big smile and a handshake.
A typical Sunday morning conversation ensued, and as it was
ending John questioned Scott about turning off his cell phone.

"You never know," he said.  "Some desperate soul just might need
you," he smiled.

Scott grimaced, reconsidered, and turned the phone onto vibrate.
Scott ran a one-man towing business, and the last thing he
wanted this morning was to have to miss the service to haul
someone out of a ditch, or worse, drag the shredded remains of
someone's car off of the highway.

Not five minutes passed before his cell phone vibrated.  As he
walked toward the lobby to answer the call he could only think,
"Full retail for this one."

It was old Mrs. Wingate, a widow whose dilapidated jalopy was
headed for the Guinness Book of World records for running long
past the natural life span of any car.  Her car had broken down
on her way to church, and she was stranded on the side of the
road, freezing.  She was perhaps the kindliest little old lady
anyone could ever hope to meet, and he could scarcely ask her to
call anyone else.  After all, she and his Mom were good friends.

When he arrived, Scott could see the steam still rising from her
hood.  She smiled gracefully as only a true Southern lady could,
and they commiserated for a moment over her ailing car.  As he
slipped a pair of coveralls over his Sunday pants and shirt, he
asked her to step in front of his truck for safety's sake.

"Why, whatever for?" she asked.  He explained how when the steel
cable pulled her car up onto the flat bed of his truck there was
always the possibility that it could snap, and either hurt or
maybe even kill someone.

She gave a little gasp, and moved in front of the truck.  In
just a few minutes her ailing car was secured, and the pair took
off towards her mechanic's shop.  Since her church was almost on
the way, he asked if he could drop her off there.  She turned to
him and said, "Yes, thank you."

As he pulled up to the side door of her church to let her out,
she asked, "How much do I owe you."  He smiled, knowing that she
was as poor as a church mouse.  He pointed to the church
building and said, "This one's on the House."  She smiled that
smile that only the truly thankful and relieved could smile, put
her time-worn hand on his forearm and said, "I will always pray
for your safety."

As she walked towards the church she joined some friends.  As he
pulled away, he could see them clustered in that tight huddle
ladies form when some news needs to be shared.  He knew he did
not need to ask if she could get a ride home.  That was as given
as tomorrow's sunrise.

A year later, Scott's Reserve Unit got called up for combat
duty.  He had all the training he needed, and now it was the
time to pony up.  He went through the usual tearful goodbyes
with his parents and friends, and took the long grueling flight
overseas.

Shortly after arriving, his unit was assigned to clear a town of
"insurgents."  With his mechanical skills, it was no surprise
that he was assigned to a support group helping to maintain
other vehicles in their unit.

It was not a peaceful day.  Occasionally, the distinctive
clatter of AK-47s would be heard along with the blast of rocket
propelled grenades.  This was usually followed by M-16 and 50
caliber machine gun fire.  It wasn't long before his team got
the call to assist a wounded humvee towards the center of town.

They quickly descended on the shot-up vehicle, and began
repairs.  As they worked away it became obvious what parts and
tools were needed, so Scott returned to the truck to get them.
As he rounded the back of the truck he ran face-first into a
enemy soldier that had slipped up quietly.  Instantly an AK-47
was shoved into his face, and he heard the hammer of the rifle
drop as the trigger was pulled.  It was the loudest sound he had
ever heard in his life.  For whatever reason, the gun had not
discharged, but he had heard that gun's hammer hit steel like a
blacksmith's hammer striking an anvil.

Immediately he reacted.  With his left hand he swept the gun
aside, and with his right hand slammed the heavy wrench he was
carrying into the head of the enemy soldier.  The grungy, AK-
carrying guerilla went down like a pile of rags.  Calling for
help, he turned his unconscious would-be killer over to the
combat troops.

He was shaken so hard he couldn't stand up.  He sat down on the
truck's tailgate.  He could only think, "The gun should have
gone off.  It should have blown my brains across the street.  I
should be dead."  But he wasn't.

By evening, his nerves had finally settled down as much as they
were going to that day.  His team had been called back to work
on a downed vehicle in a well-secured area so they moved away
from the fighting.  After chow the mail caught up with them.  He
got two letters, and a post card.  He flipped the post card over
and found that it was from that dear old soul, Mrs. Wingate.

It had only one sentence,

"I will always pray for your safety."

He bowed his head, and quietly cried.

 

~ by Jack Holton Cowart~

http://www.mountainwings.com