On Memorial Day I visited a cemetery. It was not a cemetery where any of my loved ones are buried, but a cemetery near where I was staying in Grand Rapids. Since I'd asked the congregation that Sunday to visit the grave of a soldier and give thanks, I knew that wherever I was on Memorial Day, I wanted to take some time for prayers of thanks.
I sought out grave markers with flags flying above them. I looked for markers that had been given by the United States government, uniform bronze plaques, with name, rank, branch of service and, if the soldier was deployed during war or conflict, the name.
I began each graveside prayer with thanksgiving. I prayed for both men and women who had served in WWI, WWII, Korea and Vietnam. I prayed for one soldier who was killed in Vietnam. I also prayed for their families. I asked that no matter how long ago the person died, that someone on Memorial Day would say their name.
And at each grave I asked God that those who were left behind, children, nieces and nephews and friends, might carry within them the best of the soldier who had died.
Isn't that something we can all ask for, that the best part of us might be passed on and carried on in others?
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