I cherish the memorials I have of my parents, in fact, those of all my ancestors. When I look on them I remember all those right things they did….and, I remember the wrongs. The good I recall with the deepest pride and appreciation, and I am inspired to emulate them. Their error I rehearsewith deepest caution, and, realizing that the potential of the same is in us all, I vow my best effort to never permit the same behavior of myself.
I would never intentionally destroy any monuments to my parents or, for that matter, any of my ancestors, even those memorials that evoke images of their gross failure. I would never destroy any objects of their memory to appease anyone they might have offended or hurt; however, I do try never to memorialize their wrongs with my own actions. Their memories all, the good and the bad, whether they be of my blood progenitors, whether of my American predecessors, or whether any of my ancestors in Christ, they are my life’s very foundation, and, “If the foundations [even the most flawed of its stones] be destroyed, what can the righteous [those endeavoring to be found just in all things] do?” (Ps 11:3)
August 18, 2017
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