Patriotism

My patriotism runs deep. Some of my favorite memories are singing with my daddy while both of us choked up over America’s patriotic songs. Friday morning assemblies at junior high school were also among my favorite times because we honored our country in pledge and in song, unashamedly.

These songs are deeply impressioned in my soul. During the twelve years I homeschooled our daughter [two years, our son], the homeschool community provided opportunity for both of our children to participate in musical productions about our country. How grateful I am that their allegiance became foundational.

A proud patriot I am!

It saddens me to witness so few people covering their hearts during the Pledge of Allegiance or the singing of the national anthem at most events. Recently, just prior to our grandson’s high school graduation ceremony, I slipped out to the restroom. Timing was not the best [maybe]; as I was entering the ladies’ room hallway, the seniors were lining up to march in. We were held at bay and weren’t permitted to re-enter the arena until after the pledge to the flag [thank God they still allow it!].

I was at the head of a group of approximately 30 people who were waiting to be readmitted. The pledge began, and I placed my hand over my heart. I couldn’t help but carefully notice that I was the only one honoring these moments. Was it because they were out of public sight and not among the larger arena crowd that they felt it unnecessary to participate? As far as I was concerned, the pledge is the pledge, patriotism is patriotism, no matter where you are–even in the crowded shadows of the ladies’ room hallway.

About halfway through the pledge, I noticed a few obviously-convicted people gently slide their hands onto their hearts. I smiled inside. Then we were released to re-enter the arena. Was my timing off, or was it on? Perhaps I was placed right where I was for good reason. Patriotism is of the heart, not location, nor is it just to be noticed.

God, bless America!

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