11th November 2015

I can’t help but remember that 50 years ago, UDI was signed by Ian Smith. 11th November 1965. I was 1. My formative years were spent in a war torn country where the prize was the land – a war ensued – 20 000 soldiers died.

Last night was my last Tuesday evening of Bible school. This week I finished reading through the Bible. The words of Revelation ring in my ears…

Revelation 21:3-4
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people,and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.”

While the pain of war will always be with us this side of eternity, in truth, the best is yet to come.

While this poem was written by  Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943) in honour and memory of those who fell in the First World War, – it is a reminder of the devastation and heartbreak of war.

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

At the going down of the sun, we will remember them.

God bless you.

In His Grip,

Helga xx