Oct
3
2017
Monuments Of Remembrance
Posted in Salvation 4 Comments
Even though our son comes home, this is the time of year we go to visit him.
He is a lawyer in Washington, D.C.
I enjoy seeing him, where he lives and works.
I enjoy seeing his friends.
My husband and I planned the weekend, which worked with our son’s schedule.
The only thing I wanted to do, besides seeing him, was to visit all of the monuments.
I had seen them years before but I had not seen a few of the newer ones.
It was up to our son to make reservations at various restaurants and plan our touring day.
We arrived on Friday, later in the afternoon.
It was planned that we would go to dinner with others that night.
A friend of my son, who is part of the White House Legal Counsel, arranged a private tour.
He took us on a private tour of the West Wing.
Our tour was at night.
It was such a privilege to be in the area of the White House where so much history has occurred.
What struck me was the actual size of the various rooms.
Everything seems so big when you see it on television but in reality it is so much smaller.
I saw the Oval office and thought about how many Presidents sat there behind the desk.
I saw the Rose Garden and remembered how many celebrations of honor happened there.
I saw the beautiful paintings that hung on the wall.
I wished that I could peruse the first edition books I noticed on the bookshelves.
Security was tight as you would expect.
No photos were allowed to be taken until we reached the Press Briefing Room.
I have seen numerous press conferences during various Presidencies.
The room is quite small with plaques behind each chair for the various news agencies.
I had been in the East Wing twice before but never saw the West Wing.
Whether Republican or Democrat, liberal or conservative, it is a privilege to be there.
The White House is The People’s House, or at least it should be.
I was so very grateful to have had that experience.
The next day was our touring day.
We began at the Lincoln Memorial.
I was amazed at the number of people going up and down the steps.
We heard music coming from a flat area at the base of the steps.
It was a choir singing worship songs.
Right there on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, God was being praised.
A crowd had gathered, most were singing quietly along with the choir.
One little girl, about two years old, was dancing on the steps.
God will be praised in all sorts of places.
There were no protests.
There was just praise going forth as it was carried on the fall breeze.
I looked towards the Washington Monument and was overwhelmed with our Freedoms.
We walked to the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial Wall.
The quiet respect, as people walk along the wall, is something I will not forget.
Name after name, on panel after panel was chiseled on the wall.
There were drawings, plaques, cards, and flowers placed before the wall.
My throat tightened as I passed by.
My husband had remembered that someone with his exact name is on the wall.
We searched for that man in the directory of names and found him.
We stopped at that panel and saw the name I know so well.
I wanted to say, I am glad it is not you.
However, that same name is someone’s son, husband, father, brother, or friend.
I never said a thing but silently prayed.
I prayed for the family of the man with the same name as my husband.
I was awestruck at the Korean War Memorial.
Life-size soldiers were walking in a field, carrying heavy gear on their backs.
Each face was different; each expression unique.
It was so real that it took my breath away.
We ate lunch near the Washington Monument.
We walked to the Jefferson Memorial, passing by the famous cherry blossom trees.
Certain areas along the Tidal Basin allowed fishing.
I saw a man catch a fish that he flung over the railing with ease.
The fish was still flapping as we passed.
There was blood on the ground, on the fish, and on the man’s hand.
He took the hook out of the fish’s mouth and tossed him back in the water.
He wiped the blood of the fish on the railing.
It was appropriate somehow.
Each of the war memorials represented blood that was shed for our freedom.
Seeing the blood on the ground as I walked by, struck me.
Blood was shed so we could be free.
After the Jefferson Memorial, we walked to the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial.
The memorial is quite large and tells a story as you walk around it.
There were life-size statues of men in a bread line during the Depression.
There was a statue of a man listening to the radio, probably one of his Fireside Chats.
There was a larger than life statue of Roosevelt and his dog, Fala.
There was a statue of President Roosevelt in his wheelchair.
The loneliness of that statue was palpable as he sat there in the middle of a courtyard.
My son noticed something on the back of that statue.
Roosevelt designed his own wheelchair.
It was a regular kitchen chair with two bicycle wheels in front.
There were two tricycle wheels in the back.
The schematics for the wheelchair were on the back of the statue.
Our last stop was the Martin Luther King Jr. monument.
I had seen pictures of that monument when it was first unveiled.
Nothing prepared me for the impact the memorial had on me.
Dr. King appears to be coming out of a piece of stone.
What I had never seen in the pictures was that a massive mountain was behind him.
The stone with Dr. King was actually a slice of that mountain.
The memorial symbolizes the Stone of Hope being hewn out of the Mountain of Despair.
It references a line from Dr. King’s 1963, I Have A Dream, speech.
On the side of the stone with Dr. King there was a quote.
Out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope.
I noticed the sides of the Stone of Hope and the Mountain of Despair had scrape marks.
It was as if there was a struggle in order to move that stone out of the mountain.
It was so powerful.
Natural disasters, violence, hatred, and bigotry plague our nation.
The scrape marks reminded me that there has always been a struggle.
There has always been a battle between good and evil since the Garden.
This is the meaning of the vision of the rock cut out of a mountain, but not by human hands—a rock that broke the iron, the bronze, the clay, the silver and the gold to pieces. The great God has shown the king what will take place in the future. The dream is true and its interpretation is trustworthy. (Daniel 2:45)
Jesus is the Rock cut out of a mountain, but not by human hands.
Jesus is the Rock that will break all worldly powers to pieces.
Jesus, the Rock, will one day crush His enemies.
The last enemy to be destroyed is death.
Each war monument I visited honored those that died in my place.
Other monuments honored those who worked to secure my freedom and yours.
Jesus, the Rock cut out of the mountain but not by human hands, died in my place.
Jesus did all the work; His blood was shed so we could be free.
Out of the mountain of despair, a Stone of Hope for those who believe.
After our recent visit to DC I was also struck by that quote on the MLK memorial. What a powerful perspective. Thank you!
Pam,
Kindred spirits, you and I, to be so touched by the same quote.
God makes Himself known in so many different ways.
Praise God that we have the Stone of Hope in Christ.
Gina
Beautiful blog, Gina. Must have been so moving, seeing the monuments to great men from our past. But the greatest One of all, Jesus Christ, has no monument but the remembrance of Him on the cross and out belief in His lifesaving blood shed for us.
Sue,
It was an amazing weekend. It was incredibly moving to see all the monuments and ponder the meaning behind each of them. Others died in our place so that we can be free. However, there is ONE, the Lord Jesus, who saved us with the shedding of His blood. We believe on Him for our salvation. He is our Stone of Hope.
Gina