I have had a little moment in my mind since the weekend. A moment of perspective. And I bumped into two posts which form the most perfect setting to this moment:
Staying Sane In An Insane World: “I believe that I have to work through many parts of my mental illness (thoughts) in order to live the most productive life I can, and to enjoy life to the extent that I am capable. So today I came up with something to help me cope with all the random violence surrounding each and every one of us.” (A Journey With You)
Take a Moment: “Take a minute… think about these verses. Whatever you may be up against today, or any day, whatever is causing you pain or problems; what is this difficulty compared to the love that God has for you? Nothing!” (The Life Project, Don Merritt)
During a wonderfully romantic weekend, and after a small (but perfectly formed) argument – we both needed space from each other – and I needed perspective. A lot of perspective.
I was drawn to make the short drive from our hotel to the Madingley American Cemetery Cambridge, UK. And I did.
Did you know that it is not full of dead people.
It is full of the names and memories of real people. Real people who were killed during WW2 in loads of different places and ways. Mostly all horrific.
Today it is a peaceful place, beautifully tended. It is a place of restful souls. Young American souls. The souls of those killed around seven decades ago. Each with a cross, a name, a date, an armed forces title.
And whatever the rights and wrongs of war, the right and wrongs of the politics of war, the politics of being right and wrong, whether the aggressor or the aggressed …
These are the names of real people with wives, daughters, sons, fathers, mothers, nieces and nephews, cousins, extended family and friends. Each cross beautifully maintained and ever so peaceful – connecting so much loss then and since.
It was quiet when I visited. It was peaceful. It was respectful. And as I walked slowly around this new place and found perspective in my own “lovers’ tiff” – I thanked each name as I walked slowly back to the car.
And by the time I was near the exit I was walking with a barrage of bawdy humor cascading from the souls of several thousand USA servicemen Each one adding to the deafening crescendo of jeering and laughter, of whistling and amazing camaraderie!
“Go get your girl, Paul – go get her right now!“
(along with some unprintable suggestions for how I might “go get her”!!!)
And I did.
And we reconnected.