A Cause Worth Fighting For

Courage for me is keeping a dentist appointment. My idea of bravery is doing battle with the squirrels in my backyard, as they try to shimmy up my birdfeeder pole to steal seed. That’s how comfortable and secure my blessed life has become in this great land that I live in.

But what is going on in Ukraine has reawakened my understanding and appreciation of the true meaning of courage and bravery. Let me make clear this is not some partisan essay. I do not write this as a conservative or a liberal. I am merely a bystander who sees the fearless people of Ukraine risk everything to fight for their country, while the rest of the freedom-loving world watches, willing to contribute money and equipment, but remaining steadfast that Ukrainians must fight this battle alone.

I don’t begin to understand the complexity of the politics involved. And I don’t want to. I only know that watching the newsreel scenes of their struggle makes me feel sad, scared and inspired, all at the same time. The way they continue to find hope in what seems hopeless. How they persevere against the relentless and the inevitable. I wasn’t alive in the early 1940’s. I wonder if this is what it felt like when Adolph Hitler began expanding his power in western Europe. Were these the kind of emotions that were stirring in the hearts of the American colonists some 250 years ago, as they geared up to end the control and domination of English tyranny.

And forgive me for having doubt, but I wonder about us. Faced with a similar oppressor, would we still fight for our freedom? Would we cast aside our political divisions, our racial biases, our financial and geographic differences, and unite in the rediscovery that we are all one, that we are all free under a great and mighty God, and that no other regime or nation should ever be able to take that away from us? Or have we become so comfortable, so secure, so self absorbed, that we have lost perspective of the commitment and sacrifice necessary to make it possible?

Life is so good here. My biggest problem today will be negotiating the potholes on highway eleven. I don’t have to worry about an artillery shell striking and destroying my house. My hardest decision today will be what to eat for lunch. I don’t have to decide between gathering up my family and fleeing the country, or staying to help fight a war that will likely end my life. There won’t be any grandmothers here fashioning small bombs out of empty bottles to throw at enemy tanks as they roll down main street. There won’t be any young mothers having babies in air raid shelters.

As I watch the war in Ukraine unfold, I find myself with a refreshed awareness of the courage and bravery that is displayed and preserved all around me. I drove a little slower past the military memorial in Civitan Park. I thought about all the names inscribed on it, the bold warriors who fought for me. An American flag flies above the entrance to my subdivision. Normally, I am oblivious as I motor past, lost in my selfish thoughts. Not today. I gave it a little salute. I have been profoundly reminded of what it took for that flag to be up there, flapping proudly in the early spring breeze.

To the people of Ukraine: God be with you. And thank you for so heroically showing us once again that freedom and patriotism are worth fighting for. Even dying for.