This Memorial Day

I remember being a child and sitting with my cousins as my grandfather told us a story about WWII.  It wasn't something he did often. I really only have the one fuzzy memory of a story of ships, planes, and Kamikazes and I sometimes wonder if I changed the details over the years.  I was too young then to understand  more than a cleaned up movie version of war.  I didn't understand that WWII was so awful that most of the men who came back struggled to speak about what happened to those that weren't their fellow vets.  I was too young to comprehend the fear and dread he must have experienced knowing his wife and four children, all under the age of five,  were back at home praying he would return, with no guarantees.  I certainly was too young to grasp the significance of serving as a soldier for a government that did not protect his own rights and freedoms as a black man in the 1940's.  I didn't get any of that, because he didn't tell us that.  He spoke with only with pride and reverence.  


I think about him and that story on this Memorial Day, and I reminded of something so important.  We are not defined by who the world tells us to be, but by our designer, God.  My grandfather lived in a world that did not treat him with respect and honor daily because he was a black man in the south born in the 1917.  He had not been given the full rights and protections that he deserved as an American citizen, but he did not let the opinions of others or the poor treatment from others define him as a man.  He knew who his true Creator was and he knew who he was in Christ.  I never saw my grandfather as anything but a proud, hard working, somewhat vain (with a name like Hansom, how could he not be), funny, and loving man.  The past struggles and hindrances were things that he grew through and not things that broke him.  He stood tall and walked proud and that is what I saw for the thirty five years of my life that I got to know him.  His quick grin and quick wit are still my fondest memories of him, and neither were marked by what must have been a lot of difficult years. I know now, because I know the history of our nation, that he did not have an easy path to follow as a young man, but I love that he never let others tell him who he could be. 


This Memorial Day, I hope to honor all of those soldiers and sailors that have sacrificed for the freedom  of our nation, and the best way I know to honor them is to stand tall and walk proudly as a Christ-follower.  I know who I am because I know who created me, and I will only allow myself to be defined by Him.  I can be who I am freely, because I live in a nation where men and women have sacrificed to protect our freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and freedom in general.   I will not squander these freedoms in my lifetime.  I will not forget those who gave so I could have them.  I will honor the legacy of my wonderful grandfather with hard work,  a quick wit, and solid faith of my own. He would expect nothing less. 

 My Granddaddy. Hansom Prentice Baptiste Sr. 

 Me at the WWII Memorial in Washington DC!