Thanks woven with tradition
Lori Borgman | Monday, Nov 22, 2010
On this Sunday before Thanksgiving I am attending
church on an Army post, sitting in the back row of a small chapel at Fort Sill,
Oklahoma, training ground of the field artillery.
The picturesque little church is nearly 75 years old
with a vaulted ceiling supported by timber arches. The glory of the little
chapel is its stained glass – five slender uniformed windows of red, blue and
gold filter morning light.
Someone is asking first time visitors to introduce
themselves and tell what brings them to the fine state of Oklahoma. A lady with
silver hair and a sweet as honey accent says she is here from Georgia, visiting
her daughter-in-law and grandbaby. Her son is in Afghanistan.
We turn to Hymn No. 786, “Count Your Blessings.”
When upon life’s billows you are tempest tossed.
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost. Count your many blessings, name
them one by one, And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.
There are a number of retired Army present, men in
crisp white shirts and ladies beside them in soft colored suits. There are many
active duty present as well. The young men have “high and tight” haircuts and
good posture. There are three babies scattered in pews to the right, all under
the age of one. Several rows ahead of them are two little boys in dress pants
and button-down shirts which will no doubt come untucked as soon as the service
is over.
On the pillar beside the pew is a plaque bearing the
name of a commander who was here from 1958-1960. Nearly every side of every
pillar bears a memorial to someone who has gone before.
It is not difficult to imagine ghosts of the past,
service members, families, children, sitting in these same seats, walking this
same aisle, experiencing the separations common to the military, joyful reunions
and graveside farewells. One generation slides out of the pew and another slides
in.
We pray for one soldier by name and for the many in
Iraq and Afghanistan facing holidays far from home and families.
Are you ever burdened with a load of care? Does the
cross seem heavy you are called to bear? Count your many blessings, every doubt
will fly, And you will keep singing as the days go by.
There are framed portraits of the apostles on the
walls along the sides and at the rear of the chapel. The disciples in these
renderings are rough and rugged, muscular with heavy beard growth and untamed
hair. They have a certain Marine quality about them -- a nice change from the
usual peaches and cream complexions and timidity with which Christian religious
figures are so often portrayed.
This is a fitting place to give thanks. This place
of worship is mindful that the greatest blessings are beyond cost, given to us
by the Creator. This house of worship, the brick and mortar and the portraits on
the wall, are tangible reminders that the bounty we enjoy has been secured for
us by the strength and convictions of those who have gone before.
Count your blessings, name them one by one, Count
your blessings, see what God hath done.
