Fireworks, burgers on the grill, maybe a day at the lake or on the boat;  hot summer sun, cold drinks, and dodging mosquitoes.  4th of July!

Here, somewhen today, we'll talk about King's Mountain, Camden, Ninety Six, Valley Forge.  We'll remember Adams and Washington, Jefferson, Nathaniel Green, Daniel Morgan, the sharpshooters who were husbands, fathers and sons, who, because of their bravery and sacrifice secured our freedom from a crown without compassion.  Because I know my son, and because I remember my brothers, we will also pray for men and women fighting for freedom throughout the world today, plead the cause of those still bound.

No matter what side we take on the war our troops are fighting, we must understand the fact that war is costly.  Monetarily, emotionally.  We are losing men and women who are sons and daughters, wives and husbands, friends and coworkers.  We argue in the press about the "why"...and I suppose history books decades to come will still be arguing it.  In the fray, we must never forget the "what"...someone else is gaining their freedom from oppression and tyrannical rule.  Like the French long ago, our government's motivations do nothing to blunt the effectiveness of our aid to those in fetters. 

While we are not the world's police, we must be the neighbor that will not sit idly by while abuses grow ever more egregious.  By so doing, it may be that we preserve the freedom brave men continue to guard for us.

Happy Independence Day!

So, the eldest comes home from summer camp...tired, hoarse, with a suitcase of smelly clothes.  One of thousands, right?  Telling tales of mud pit tug-of-war and water gun shoot outs and pizza and hot dogs, hours in the swimming pool and video arcade, my boy hated to leave but is glad to be back with the fam.  Again, quintessential American Kid experience, yes?

Only, this wasn't just camp.  And, it wasn't a week of religious indoctrination, either.  It was a wonderfully fun stretch of days with time each evening to explore what it means to have the God who created us, crazy in love with us.  And, this week, when much of the world celebrates the solstice, the rise of the Son-King, with dawnfires and balefires, my son came home with a fire inside, as well.  The Lord of Heaven has birthed in him a desire to reach out, a heart for those he describes as his 6 billion brothers and sisters.  My sweet, funny, smart, amazingly astute son wants to tell other people about the reality of Jesus Christ. 

At an age when many are concrete in their thinking, dogmatic in their religion, black-and-white in their boxes, my son is looking to show the world the heart of selfless love, the Creator-Sacrifice-King, the ever and all present Spirit, the Help, the Lord.  So, tonight, I am humbled and proud at the same time.  Proud of the firstfruits of our adventures in parenting, humbled by the joyfully open hearts I see developing in our children.  Based on what I see at this moment, I'm not proud because they fit in some exclusive, religious boy's club, but because I believe that they're latching on to a truth difficult for most to understand:

Jesus, the Son of God, present at creation, did not become the Sacrifical King to judge and damn us to death and hell, but to rescue us for eternal life.  He is our advocate, and the One we can run to no matter what our circumstances look like. Cheering us on, not waiting in the wings with a lightening bolt to strike us down.  Our closest friend, not the accusing attorney charged with our conviction. 

So...sue me.  I'm proud.