Counting the Cost?


Count the Value

A few weeks ago we watched our grandson, Cadence, play T-ball. The game was like most T-ball games: small children with vague notions of the rules ran around for an hour under the patient supervision and loving instruction of lots of parents.
Cadence Tearing Up the Baseline.

One particularly common move for this team: While playing the outfield, pick up the ball, throw it to a teammate, then run to the next base. I’m expecting Major League Baseball to add this play soon.
Me, Cadence’s Mommy, Elaine, Cadence’s Little Brother, Sawyer

As the children practiced, parents (and at least one Lala and Papa Rich) relaxed on the lawn, socializing. Brothers and sisters played on the grass. 
Papa Rich and Sawyer, at T-Ball.

So why, on this Memorial Day, am I writing about T-ball? For one reason only.
My grandson, Cadence, plays T-ball in Hawai’i. On Oahu. At Pearl Harbor. 

Seventy-one years ago, hell rained out of the sky here. Our nation was plunged into World War II. 
People died, right here.

Today, as we mourn the losses and honor the fallen–as we count the cost–let us also remember that something was gained in those sacrifices.
Let us remember to count the value.
We call it by a lot of different names, what those sacrifices gained here, what we’ve gained over and over, through our nation’s history. 
Sovereign Status.
Whatever you want to call it,  I see it, here, as I watch carefree children play in the sunshine.

I see it as I chat with a neighbor whose most cherished beliefs are radically different from mine. Or yours.

And I remember, with gratitude, that unthinkable sacrifices have been made.

But they have not been made in vain. 

[Edited at 8:37 a.m., because I forgot to add this photo earlier.]
The USS Arizona Memorial.

Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.
John 15:13 (NASB)

I’m linking with Laura Boggess today for Playdates with God. You’ll stop by, won’t you?