I am the flag of the United States of America. My name is Old Glory. I fly atop the world's tallest buildings. I stand watch in america's halls of justice. I fly majestically over institutions of learning. I stand guard with power in the world. Look up at me and see me.
I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice. I stand for freedom. I am confident. I am arrogant. I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners, my head is a little higher, my colors a little truer. I am recognized all over the world. I am saluted. I am loved, I am respected...and I am feared.
I have fought in every battle of every war for more than 200 years. I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysbury, Shiloh and Appomattox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anziok, Rome and the beaches of Normandy. Guam, Okinawa, Korea, KkheSan, and Saigon, Vietnam.
I led my troops, I was dirty, battle worn and tired, but my soldiers cheered me and I was proud. I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free. It does not hurt, for I am invincible. I have been soiled, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of my country..And when it's by those whom I've served in battle, it hurts.
But I shall overcome...for I am strong. I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon. I have born silent witness to all of America's finiest hous=rs. But my finest hours are yet to come.
When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield, When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier, Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter, I am proud.
A Letter To The Editor Written and published in August , 1995
Our grandchildren were playing in a litttle league baseball tournament. In a building close by a debate was going on between pro-abortionists and pro-life people. There were no chairs...people had brought lawn chairs and bean bags to sit on. We had taken our huge yellow bean bag to share. We were going back and forth to see as much of both events as possible. The debate was in five minute segments with both sides taking turns making their speeches.
The pro-choice speeches were all concerned about the rights of the woman, with no one on that side mentioning the rights of the baby. During one of their speeches, I became disgusted and went on out to watch the ball game for a few minutes. When I came back into the building to join my husband, I thought it was between speeches, because no one was talking, but I noticed tears running down Bobby's cheeks. It was then that I saw lots of the men and women wiping away tears.
One of the young women on the pro-life side was the last one on the agenda for the meeting. This woman was not speaking a word...but her presentation was so eloquent, that no words were necessary. She had the attention of everyone in the room. She was holding in her lap, a small mink like animal, like a ferret (it must have been her pet) with its baby running up her arms and down again to the mother sitting in the woman's lap.
The mother animal was being so affectionate and loving to the little one, hugging and petting with its front paws. The young woman was crying...she was smiling at the antics of the mother and its baby but tears were pouring down her cheeks. This went on for her five minutes allotted time.
The difference between that animal with its baby and a human mother who disregards the sanctity of life by having a doctor kill her unborn baby must have been on the young woman's mind...because that is what I was thinking of and evidently what Bobby and many of the others were thinking when I walked in.It was a dreadful mistake for our Supreme Court to make it legal.
There was a time in ancient Israel (God's chosen nation to bring Christ through) that God gave up on them and let them be punished and be taken over by another country because they were sacrificing their children in fire to Molech, a false God.
Sounds like our nation today, doesn't it? And the false gods our babies are being sacrificed to are: the god of materialism, the god of convenience, the god of sexual immorality. Please wake up, America....We are on our way down!
Sincerely, Edna Ingram
Note: Actually this story did not happen. It was a dream (or nightmare) that I had when the abortion issue was so hot in the middle 90's. But I thought that if it was bothering me so much that I dreamed this bizzare dream about it, God must want me to share it...and so I did back then...and so I did again. Because it is threatning to be a major topic this fall in the presidential campaign. It should be at the top of the list in our priorities along with other moral issues.
I thought at first I should put this on my other blog, "Against The Current" because of the controversy over this issue...but what could be a more appropriate place for it than "Life Connections"?
Look at the trust Baby Bird has in Bobby. He could pinch his little head off in an instant...but Baby Bird knows he is going to be sweet and gentle with him. We wouldn't take anything for him. We wouldn't take anything for our children either...but there are people who are not like us...and they would. * (See below)
When we first got Baby Bird he was only 3 months old and didn't have his long tail and wing feathers. He was so cute. Bobby was wearing cowboy boots and he would hold his boot up to the cage and Baby Bird would try to sing and whistle. When he learned how to do that, everytime Bobby would stick the toe of his boot up there, Baby Bird would start singing and when he learned to "talk", he would say: "Give me sugar"...and he would "kiss" the toes of his boot. Since then he has learned lots of sentences. "What ya doing? What's your problem? Going to get a cup of coffee. Got to go to work, be back in a little while" and a few others.
Well he is 8 years old now and he still loves Bobby's boots. When he has them on...Baby Bird just follows them with his eyes. When he's sitting on his shoulder, he almost falls off looking down trying to see those boots. Today when Bobby stuck his boot up to the cage he still did the same things he was 'trained' to do. He loves Bobby's boots so much that when he changes into his walking shoes, it upsets Baby Bird. I don't think any kind of "peer pressure" could make Baby Bird like loafers, house shoes, high heels or walking shoes better than he likes boots...that first item in his infanthood!
This started me to thinking about our children. If a little 3 month old cockatiel can be so influenced by a pair of boots...what about our children.
Those little dears, who come to us as a tiny bundle, pure and clean and with no heavy baggage of pre-conceived ideas...and they are like little sponges willing to soak up everything in their environment...and soon they learn to talk and to walk...and we have them as long as 18 years or more right under our roof.
How much more could we train and influence our little children, who can learn to converse with us and bond with us and have a natural affection for us and who can learn from the examples we set? But Satan comes to us and says: "...I'll give you all the kingdoms of the world...a good job, a step up on that corporate ladder...computers, the internet, a tv in every room, several cars in your garage, a dream house...if you will just give me your children." * And too many of us have said: "Okay." (Wendell Ingram's analysis , and so true.)
I don't believe that any person can come into their lives and so influence them to the point that they forsake their values...if those first items in their lives (mother and daddy) do their jobs. So...where have we failed? At what point in time did we quit trying...and let their teenage peers and the schools take over for us?
