Thoughts on Discipleship by Dr. W. A. Dillard - HTML preview

REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR!

“Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.” Isaiah 49:15.

The Great Depression raged on as this writer discovered America in a small house of no utilities. Memories of the actual bombing of Pearl Harbor elude me, but the war itself was impressed upon me as the armored tanks and soldiers on bivouac so often surrounded that house on the backside of Fort Chaffee. A little blue banner with golden letters hung on the living room wall as it did in so many houses back then. It read: “Remember Pearl Harbor!”

The Japanese act of infamy galvanized a peace loving nation that had managed to stay out of the European Theatre of WWII. Now it would be in war on two fronts as a matter of national survival.

The nation mobilized industry for making war equipment; families moved from the country to the city to help make those things; everyone lived under the belt-tightening rationing of sugar, gasoline, tires, etc. Those who could not go to war, as my dad, went to help build Liberty Ships in San Francisco. It was a unique growing up time for many children. Thank God for truck patch gardens; milk cows, chickens, and a hog or two, and rabbit traps. These were survival commodities. But, I have digressed!

Many years later, I was privileged to visit Hawaii. Attention was paid to the pass through which enemy planes approached the harbor. The Punch Bowl cemetery was especially impressive. Here in the crater of an ancient volcano is one of the most beautiful, final, resting places of young men and women who did not survive that awful day, and many days that would follow; young lives with hopes and dreams snuffed out in a moment of time.

But seeing these was a prelude to the Pearl Harbor Memorial. Standing across the top of the USS Arizona, one can see the outline of the warship below, and an occasional drop of oil still reaches the surface to dispel in an array of colors. Here just a few feet below the surface lies entombed hundreds of brave, young sailors, repelled by the intense heat of flames across the deck sought refuge in rooms below that were watertight. As the ship went down, they were hopeful that rescue would soon appear. Their knocks against the hull of the ship could be detected for up to two weeks. Finally, silence reigned as death mercifully admitted them to realms above. Mentally, I was there. But now,l years later, the tears could not be denied as it was my privilege to present U.S. Flags that had flown over the USS Arizona to honor my uncle who was on the beach at Normandy on D-Day Three other uncles served in those days, also my brother who served in the navy during the Korean war.

As I stood on the Pearl Harbor Memorial in numbed silence, I breathed a prayer of thankfulness to God that my life has been so richly blessed. I am forever thankful for the brave young people whose aspirations of life were no different to my own, but who gave the last full measure of devotion. I and others have a wonderful life on top of their sacrifice. I refuse to forget! Also, I am so thankful that our altogether wonderful Savior never forgets any of His children.

FOR THOUGHT: The psalmist would write “Selah!” (just stop and think about that).