Have Faith

Today I'd like to talk about faith. Faith in people, faith in God and faith in our country and its leaders. I've got a news flash for you - our country is in trouble, BIG trouble. "No kidding?" you think, and then brush my words aside.

My question to you would be, "So what are YOU doing to help out? What are YOU doing to ensure that our country will head in a proper direction? Or are you just a sit-down, whimpering, point-the-finger crybaby who does nothing but complain about the state of the nation and leaves all the work to 'someone more qualified'?

In the Spring of 1945 when World War II ended, the world was in a state of shock. The approximate global population at that time was close to two trillion people. The United States lost over 418,000 men and women, both military and civilian, during the war. Worldwide an estimated 75 million people died.

75 million! It boggled the mind then. It still does today. Although other places felt the brunt of the fighting and lost whole towns, America still reeled over its losses. The whole country felt a sadness and deep scarring. People had come together in a common cause to help furnish those fighting with all the equipment and clothing they needed to keep fighting the fight.

Many would not see their loved ones come home alive. Those that did were welcomed but still found it hard to adjust. They had to suck it up and try to move on. There were no resources available to them such as there are now. It was another time, a slower time, and as far as I'm concerned, a more respectful time.

In the following decade the situation in this country began very slowly to return to some sense of normalcy. Many people thrived and rebuilt their lives. People remembered the cost in lives lost. They reached out and neighbor helped neighbor.

And so what does all that have to do with today? What's the point of bringing up a war that happened almost 70 years ago?

This country wasn't rebuilt by people alone. This country was rebuilt by people with faith - faith in themselves, faith in each other and faith in their homeland. I ran across an ad campaign that had been launched in the early 50s. What amazed me the most was not so much the ads themselves as the company who sponsored them. It was the Texas and Pacific Railway. The ads appeared in magazines from the Saturday Evening Post to U.S. News and World Report.

They are a poignant glimpse into a time where it was neither censored nor vulgar to publicly solicit prayer as a helpful tool in recovering from the trauma of the war. Perhaps there is no one left to remember this. Maybe it's time for another such campaign. I share them with you today because they touched my heart. In some way, I hope they touch yours too.

I am sorry I don't have credits for each one individually. I know that one illustrator was Reismer. And the list of magazines they appeared in are as follows, but I do not know if it is a complete listing: The Saturday Evening Post, American Magazine, U.S. News and World Report, Time Magazine and The New York Herald Tribune newspaper. (Please click on each picture to enlarge them. The content is as timely today as it was then.)

As you will see, the ad campaign was titled "Have Faith." I encourage each one of you to read each ad, copy them, distribute them and take them into your hearts.

Remembering

I was 14 the first time I felt that feeling of utter shock and disintegration. I was in gym class laying on my stomach on a mat while the teacher explained the finer points of gymnastics. Suddenly a voice came over the PA system instructing all teachers to end their classes and to hurriedly send their students to homerooms.

Upon entering the homeroom we were then told that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated. The following days were a blur with everyone glued to their TV sets. This had never happened in my lifetime. I would come to feel that it was a moment that would shape America in so many ways, many of them unforeseen.

Five years later this act would be repeated times two with the deaths of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. All I could think was that the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave was not the place I was born into, nor would it ever be the same again.

I witnessed the inner deterioration of what used to be a country a person could depend on. I saw how lies replaced the values which it was founded on. I knew then that we would never recover from the death of our innocence nor would we ever move in the direction of health for this once-great land. Nothing has intervened to change my mind.

National shock would happen once again in 1986 and 2003 as the Challenger and Columbia shuttle disasters occurred. Being deemed as accidents didn't take away the heartfelt pain that all Americans felt as a result.

But in no way was anyone prepared for the acts of September 11, 2001. Such brutality and lack of respect for life had never befallen us before. We had never known such disfavor in God's eyes. We were stunned.

Here it is eight years later. I wonder if people are still appalled and broken? New York City has recovered in many ways. The will to survive and move on vaulted the city into action and the world was watching. And yet the issues facing America and its security coupled with all its internal management problems has forced the shock and terror of that one day into the background.

I, for one, choose to remember. I knew not one soul that perished that day, not one. But I will never forget how I felt and still feel about it. It is that same sick feeling I fell on the day I was 14 and heard of Kennedy. It was just another day of knowing that my life would never again be the same. Please take a moment today to remember those who vanished September 11, 2001. It could have happened anywhere. The fact is, it happened here, USA, Planet Earth. Let us never forget.

Burdened

I can't tell you how much I appreciate my friends. It seems to me that anything I say will be inadequate at best. But I must try albeit an attempt left wanting.

When a person holds out their hand as I did, it isn't often that a helping hand is found there. Part of the reason I have never had much faith in helping hands is that there were never any there when I really needed them. Oh sure, people would vow their undying help. But when push came to shove I always found myself doing both.

And then there came a magical day in my life. It was a wonderful, normal day like any other filled with its situations and circumstances totally beyond my control. I barked and spouted various negatives. (I did that when I was at my wit's end.)

The day after, a kind and gentle soul recounted the events of the night before. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. I was glad I was on the other end of the Internet. My tears couldn't be seen then. I wanted to run and hide. I wanted to never have to feel this way again. I was sure I had sabotaged any kind of friendship that may have developed and I just wanted to melt into nothingness.

I was convinced that the next thing I would hear was that it was nice knowing me, but that they weren't prepared to have to listen to such things from anyone, much less me. But I never heard that. What I heard instead was an offer of help. I was stunned.

We all have circumstances to deal with in our lives. Some aren't very pleasant. I felt as though I had had more than my share of unpleasant things. I just wanted respite from the endless array of nonsense that cluttered my life. Perhaps inside I wished to be entirely exempt from them. I don't know. It just seemed that sometimes life's pains were a little more than the human spirit could endure. Where was all the happiness?

More times than not I had engineered defeat in my life as a way of never having to be close to anyone. I always disappointed people anyway. I had heard that more times than I could count. It made me feel as though I were something to be tolerated, put up with and endured.

But this time... this time was different. A helping hand... what a concept. It intrigued me. And so I decided in my bewilderment to accept that help. My life was going nowhere and it was on a collision course for horrible things anyway. What could I lose, except some time and effort involved in this helping game?

Nearly two years later now, I am happy to announce I have many helping hands available to me. Not a whole lot has changed in my life really. I moved about a year ago to another state. But that's about it. Situations and circumstances haven't changed one iota. There's no grand increase in income. It's all still a hand to mouth existence. So what changed? Me, that's what. My perception of things has changed.

Two years ago I wouldn't have given you two red cents for my life. I had thought of checking out many times but never tried because I was convinced that I wouldn't even be able to do that right. Lucky thing for me, huh?

What I've discovered in the past two years is that I am not alone in this world. Furthermore, I am not insignificant or unnecessary, nor am I a person who needs to be tolerated, put up with or endured like some humongous burden to be withstood.

You tolerate a blister on your foot. You put up with the fact that you can't get any younger. You tolerate the idea that it's raining and you forgot your umbrella. A person is to be accepted for who they are, as they are, without conditions. Because if you require a person to change, you require them to lie to you.

I am a person of value with gifts and talents that are all mine. I am surrounded by people who challenge me every day to be the best person I can be. They are loving and compassionate, uplifting and kind. They keep me striving to move forward, push me to better myself, all the while loving me just as I am for who I am. I have never had that before.

To you, My Friends, (and you know who you are), I thank you for allowing me to grow in your garden. It was a nasty job and someone had to do it. I'm so glad it was you who helped me for I couldn't have learned from anyone else. God sure is smart, huh? Hugs and kisses to you.