Happy July 4th!

by Cindy R. Williams

Happy Birthday to the United States of America. I cry as I write this. I love my country. It is hard to see such selfish, willful, and often misguided minds controlling this great land. I pray that the Lord will not forget us. I pray that we will be willing to rise up and be counted on the Lord's side. No more going with the flow, because the flow is going the wrong direction.

So many men and women have sacrificed their lives for us and our freedoms. We are now losing so many of those freedoms at the hands of our own citizens as they push extremes and begin to infringe on our religious freedoms.

I want to share a story, or at last part of the story of why I will stand firm and fight if necessary for my religious freedoms.

Once upon a time there was a gregarious young man who grew up on a ranch/farm. He loved everyone he met. At 19, he was called to serve a mission to Helsinki, Finland. While in the Missionary Center in SLC, he was drafted by the United States of America to serve in the Korean War. Soon he found himself in another country, on the front lines, guarding a General's life instead of preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

This new assignment meant he often slept under the General's cot. Several times he woke up needing to protect the General from the enemy creeping into the tent, He was trained to use his hands and body as a killing machine and learned to do his job well. This was a great sacrifice for him personally, but he knew what he was called to do was protecting his great country.

One day, while out running the hills for exercise, he and 12 other soldiers were captured by the enemy. They were shoved into dirt floor huts with guards placed at the door. Days later, thirsty and almost starved to death, they planned a night time escape. When the enemy settled in for the night with their usual drinking, they waited until their guards started snoring and crept out. They were recaptured not too far from camp by another group.

Each American soldier was stabbed by baynettes through the knee caps and hands, then tossed back onto the dirt floor in their hut. The guards celebrated their recapture with more drink. This young farming man crawled to each of the other 12, helping to bind their woulds and encourage them to try again while all were now sufficiently drunk. They all were in great pain and it seemed their spirits were broken. None could, or would, make another try for freedom that night.

The young man went on his own, using his elbows to crawl and drag his useless legs. He continued for several days, drinking dew, eating roots, passing out. Finally he saw a convoy truck and with his last energy, pulled himself into the back and blacked out. He woke up in an American Military Hospital. He told his story. The company went back to the site where the others were being held. Fighting, and arrests were made. None of the other American soldiers survived.

This young man lived the rest of his life sorrowing over his 12 friends, and wondering if he could have somehow saved them. He went on to build a good live with a wife and three children. He became a teacher and coach in hopes to help build others. He loved his country and never, ever regretted serving in the military.

This man was my father.

I am one of the lucky ones. So many have died for us. How can we not show them our love and appreciation by protecting our country.

I will stand up, even though it is not "politically correct" for God's words and fight on the Lords side.
I will make my fathers proud, both earthly and Heavenly.

Happy Birthday, United States of American, my country!